To My Own Little Boy
by KuroFan4235
Summary: A series of anonymous gifts and strange goings-on take place while Ciel is ill.  How will Sebastian and Ciel handle this new mystery?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Bocchan, it is time to wake up," I said as I pulled back the curtains and fastened them. I did this every morning, countless times, and in my memory, no two times were alike.

"Mmmph," my young master said, pulling the blankets over his head.

Ah, he was going to be difficult this morning. Well, I would play along for a little while, at least. "For breakfast this morning, we have a mushroom omelet accompanied by toast or scones. Which would you care for?" By this point I was pouring the cup of tea he had to have in order to function in the mornings.

"_Mmm_ph," he said, not removing the blankets from his head.

Well, this was unusual. Normally, he wasn't so stubborn and by the time I poured tea he was ready to at least sit up and drink it. Tea would usually do the trick when even I could do nothing with him. "Young master?"

At last he sat up and I got a good look at him. His face was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as if his head pained him. The full force of his gaze settled on me. "Go _away_, Sebastian. I'm not ready to get up yet."

_This_ was new. "But it is time to get up, master. Are you feeling all right?"

A pillow flew at my head, a mark of temper which was highly unusual for my young master. "I said go away! Have you lost your hearing?"

I dodged the pillow easily, caught it, and carried it back to the bed, placing a hand on my master's forehead. It was as I suspected. "You have a fever, young master. Why didn't you tell me you felt unwell?"

As if to settle the matter, he coughed. Hearing that cough I knew right away it was bronchitis, which could become something more serious if it was not taken care of and watched carefully. He had had it the previous autumn and I had received a crash course in human illness at the same time. "Lie back down, young master. I shall return." I left the cup of tea but took the tray away, mentally going over what I would have to do this morning and what appointments I would have to reschedule since my master was ill.

In my few years of serving my young master, I'd learned a great deal about humans. In my first month I made countless mistakes in my duties until I availed myself of the books in the library. From them I learned what a butler's duties were, how to cook, how to run a household and keep a house in order, and most important of all, how to properly watch after such a young master. Despite his early maturity, my master was still a child and children required different care from the adult masters I'd had before. The books that continued to be the most helpful to me in regards to my duties and my young master were _Mrs. Beeton's Book of Household Management_ and Dr. Alcott's _The Young Mother._ Both books described the care of the house and children to such a degree that I had full confidence in them. I kept copies in the library, in my room, and in my office at all times. At the moment, I knew I needed to consult the chapters on illness in children and invalid cookery, so I hurried to my office to do the necessary reading. Twenty minutes later I was on my way to the telephone to reschedule certain appointments and to cancel others, as well as to give instructions to people who required them. Once that was done, I headed off to inform the other Phantomhive servants of the master's condition and the need for quiet as they went about their duties. It was a vain hope, I know, but it would not do for a Phantomhive butler to neglect the comfort of his master in any way.

By this point I knew my young master would wish a little something to eat, so I prepared shirred eggs, some toast, a small bowl of farina cereal, and a glass of hot lemonade. Whenever he was ill his appetite became almost non-existent, so a light meal like this was perfect. He would eat a good part of the eggs, some of the toast, complain about the farina, and drink the lemonade in one go, but he would be glad of the simple food. Anything richer would surely be a trial to his senses.

I knocked on his bedroom door and entered, carrying the tray with one hand. "How are you feeling, young master?" I asked as I approached the bed.

"Wretched," came the honest reply. "What is it?"

"Your breakfast, young master," I said lightly. "You should eat something even if you are ill. The body does better with fuel."

He sat up and shot me a look that said he was less-than-pleased at being disturbed, but even the Earl of Phantomhive could be reasonable at times. "Very well."

"First I'll have to take your temperature," I said, pulling the thermometer in its case out of my pocket. "Then you can eat."

He allowed me to take his temperature without arguing, which told me just how ill he was. He had no patience for sickness and all its attendant paraphernalia, so the fact that he didn't quibble about having his temperature taken was very telling. While the thermometer was a vast improvement in recent human medicine, it still took five minutes to register and during that time my master fidgeted and cast longing glances at the lemonade. Once the time was up I took the thermometer and handed him the lemonade as soon as he was done coughing.

"You have a moderate fever," I said, reading the thermometer. "Judging from your cough and general appearance, you'll be ill for a few days and at most, a week. I've cleared your schedule for the day so you can rest."

"That's fine," he said as I arranged the breakfast tray across his knees. "Thank you, Sebastian."

He was saying 'thank you'? He really was ill! I wondered if I should call the doctor…

My young master ate just as I thought he would and dropped back into his pillows as soon as I cleared the tray away. By the time I reached the door he had fallen back to sleep.

I went about my usual duties for the morning, every now and then pausing to look in on my young master. He slept most of the morning and quietly ate some of the soup I brought him at lunch and then after that he slept again. At about two o'clock I found him burning up and sent Finny for the doctor. Since Madame Red's death the house of Phantomhive had been availing itself of the services of a certain young doctor who was excellent in his work but terribly poor. Doctor Phillip Lewis was the best human doctor I'd seen in quite some time, and for a demon like myself, that's saying something. I arranged for him to have more than adequate lodgings and premises near the Phantomhive estate in addition to an adequate living stipend in exchange for his attendance on the young master. So far, the arrangement had proven most satisfactory.

Dr. Lewis arrived within the hour and completed his examination of the young master quickly. "It's as you thought, Sebastian," he said, putting his medical tools away. "Acute bronchitis, and according to what I'm seeing, the cause is viral. The most we can do for right now is to treat the symptoms and make him comfortable until the virus has run its course."

"And the fever?"

"That's the body fighting the virus," he explained. "On the Celsius scale, a fever just above thirty-seven degrees is normal for this illness. It's a slight increase in temperature, yes, but to the ill one and his caretakers, it feels significant. The fever should go away in a day or two, but if it does not, let me know. If the fever makes him uncomfortable, a cool wash and some willow tea will help it come down. Otherwise, have him drink these medicines as directed, and I'll stop by tomorrow to see how he feels."

I saw the doctor out, administered the master's first dose of medicine, and stayed with him until he went back to sleep. Dr. Lewis said that sleep was often the best medicine for someone who was ill and his advice had never steered us wrong before.

By supper time my master's fever had abated and he showed an appetite for the boeuf bourguigon and pain de compagne I brought him. I knew he was feeling more like himself when he asked for a book from the library. _Illustrated Travels_ was a book that my master turned to whenever he was ill or fatigued to help him forget how he felt. I knew he liked to look at the pictures and I made a mental note to purchase a stereoscope for him. He'd mentioned obtaining one before and having one would give him something else to do while he was ill.

His distraction from the book didn't last long. Within an hour he rang for me and asked for a game of dominoes. We spent some time playing and once I noticed his becoming fatigued I suggested he settle himself in bed and I would read to him. I knew he was very tired indeed when he agreed to do as I suggested without a murmur. I read to him from one of Dickens' works until he fell asleep and I stayed by his bed, indulging myself by continuing to read about Pip and Miss Havisham. Books and the stories humans wrote often surprised me and I found reading to be a relaxing pastime. About midnight I finished the book and put things in order for the next morning before going to my room. There I spent a few blissful hours in the company of a few friends of mine-silky hair, petal-pink paws, golden eyes, and purring that made me thankful for the glory that is the feline form.

The next day progressed much as the day before it had. On my hands I had three incompetent servants, a long to-do list, and a master who was ill. That meant that today would be a challenge, but it was nothing that I couldn't handle. After all, what kind of butler would I be if I couldn't handle the challenges that my duties gave me?

At about ten o'clock (after three separate disasters in the laundry room, the kitchen and the garden, respectively) the bell at the front door rang. Outside was a messenger with a package, addressed to Ciel Phantomhive. I stood there in the entrance hall, examining the package. It came from Harrods and while it was frequented by my master I usually knew if he ordered something from the store. Most often, when he wanted to order something he asked me to do it for him.

"What is it, Sebastian?"

I looked up to see my master on the stairs, still in his nightclothes and wrapped up in a blanket.

"Should you be up, Bocchan?"

"I heard the bell, and I knew that no one was scheduled to come today, so I wondered what was going on," he said evenly as he approached me. "What is that?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "A messenger just delivered it from Harrods."

"Open it," he said, heading for the nearest chair.

I unwrapped the box and stared at the picture on the front of it. It was the latest stereoscope available on the market along with at least one hundred stereogram pictures.

"Young master, did you order this?"

He shook his head. "I did not. Am I to take it that you did not order it, even though I mentioned wanting one?"

"That was one of the tasks I intended to see to today," I answered. "I must admit that I'm surprised Harrods would send a single messenger all the way from Knightsbridge. Usually, any deliveries outside of London are done by their delivery wagons."

My master nodded. "That is unusual. Did the messenger say who sent it?"

"No, he did not," I admitted. "There is a card, however." I removed it from the wrappings and read it. For a moment, I was so perplexed that I didn't understand what I was seeing. Who would send my master such a message?

"What does it say?"

"It says, _To my own little boy,_" I read. "There is no signature, but the package was addressed to you, young master."

He raised an eyebrow. "No signature?"

"None." I opened the box and removed the stereoscope and stereograms, examining them carefully. There were no contact poisons on any part of the items and there appeared to be nothing in any of the items that could be a cause for concern.

"Well?" he said, impatient.

"There is nothing wrong that I can find with any of this," I said. "I can't think who would send you something anonymously, at least not without including some type of clue."

"It doesn't make sense," he said thoughtfully. "Sebastian, I want you to find out who sent this and why. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

I did not leave right away, however. First, my duties dictated that I see my master back to bed and make sure that he took his medicine. I left a snack by his bedside and since there was nothing dangerous about the stereoscope, I left it with him so he could amuse himself while I was gone. I informed Finny, Bard, and Mey-Rin that I was leaving and that it would be up to them to protect the manor. While they were somewhat hopeless as a gardener, cook, and housemaid, they were excellent fighters and I knew that I could entrust the young master's safety to them while I was not there.

It took me the better part of an hour to get to London, make inquiries, locate the messenger, and question him. The stereoscope had been purchased at Harrods and was in their purchase booklet, but the messenger told me that he'd been approached by a stranger and asked to deliver a package to the Phantomhive estate in exchange for ten pounds. That was a princely sum for a messenger and the boy pounced on the chance. He didn't know who the man was who approached him and the boy's description could have been of any middle-class professional in London.

Most irritating.

I asked the boy to contact the Phantomhive household should he remember anything else or if the man contacted him again. I returned to the house and reported straight to my master. I found him precisely where I'd left him, the stereograms scattered about on his bedspread and the stereoscope still in his hand, and he was deeply asleep. I put the stereoscope away and tidied up before going downstairs and preparing lunch. My master woke up long enough to eat most of his meal and to ask what results my investigations had had, and it galled me to admit temporary defeat.

"It doesn't surprise me," he said. "Whoever went through so much trouble to send me an anonymous package would surely not be so stupid as to give the messenger his name."

"That is true, young master. However, I was hoping that luck would be on our side this time."

"We can't be lucky all the time," he said flatly. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. Whoever it is will eventually slip up and do something to reveal himself."

"Of course," I said with a slight bow. "Do you require anything, master?"

"Not at the moment," he said, settling back in his pillows. "I'll ring if I need anything."

"Very good, sir. I shall return to my duties now."

* * *

Over the next few days, the mystery of the stereoscope remained unsolved, to my great irritation. However, there were things to distract my attention. Lady Frances Middleford and Lady Elizabeth paid a visit to cheer up the young master, so I had to extend the usual Phantomhive hospitality while they were there. Others stopped by, certain social and business acquaintances who wished my master a speedy recovery. Prince Soma and Agni also arrived, much to my master's chagrin, but he felt too ill to complain much about their presence. Instead, he asked Soma to play draughts with him and then later to read aloud to him. With Soma and the young master occupied, Agni and I were able to pursue our duties.

A butler's work is never done. No one's job starts earlier and no one's job ends later. Every day I had duties to fulfill. I spent the early morning ironing my master's newspaper (it would not do for it to be creased or wrinkled) preparing his tea and breakfast, setting out his clothes, helping him dress, and later in the day supervising his schedule, seeing to the silver and the wine cellar, supervising the other servants, setting each room in order, guiding my master through his lessons, looking over the household inventories and expenses, preparing the lunch, tea, and dinner, preparing my master's evening bath, fetching his night clothes, and then seeing him to bed before I closed up the house for the night. When he was ill I had to greet and escort callers, provide refreshments, prepare special dishes, ensure he rested, administer his medicine, and when it was called for, distract and entertain him.

"How is the earl doing?" Agni asked. He and I were in the kitchen, seeing to the silver.

"He dislikes being ill," I told him. "I've noticed quite a change in him since he became ill, too."

"In what way?"

"He thanked me the other morning, and he's ceased arguing with me," I clarified. "Normally, his thanks are rare and arguments with him are legion." I couldn't resist that little pun. _Legion._

"Ah, children like to argue," Agni said. "They feel it gives them some measure of control in a world run by adults."

"Sometimes, the fact that my master is still a child surprises me," I confessed. "Most of the time he behaves like an adult, but then he'll do something child-like and I'll be taken by surprise."

Agni chuckled. "I don't doubt it. What does he do that surprises you the most?"

"He has a terrible weakness for sweets. Last month he raided the larder for chocolate and ate an entire box of filled chocolates before I discovered what he'd done. The stomach ache he had that night has deterred any further raids for the time being, but I'm sure that one day I'll come down here and find not a single sweet in the house." I didn't need to say that he was up most of the night with a stomach ache cursing how much discomfort a box of chocolates could cause and I didn't need to add that I hadn't scolded my master; I'd just reminded him that that was why he shouldn't sneak snacks. The look he'd shot me was pure venom, but he and I both knew I was right.

Agni glanced at me, clearly amused. "Anything else?"

"If work has to do with the Funtom company, then he can't wait to get started, but if his work is his school lessons, then I have to cajole or bargain with him," I confided. "I don't think there would be much difference between the two. After all, they're both duties he has to perform."

"I think there's a big difference for children about work they want to do and work they have to do," Agni suggested. "If he enjoys his work for the Funtom company, then it's no surprise that he would prefer that to his lessons."

"I can't tell whether or not to let him off lessons while he's ill," I said. "What do you think, Agni?"

"It's best not to insist on lessons while he's ill," Agni told me. "After all, he can't really concentrate for very long, can he?"

"That's true."

A friend was one thing I never thought to have, and certainly not a human friend. The fact that my human friend was also a butler with a fractious master gave me a chance to indulge myself and him with a little gossip about our masters. Demon or human, all individuals enjoy a good gossip from time to time, especially when they had a duty to perform that took only their hands to complete.

By the time we took afternoon tea up to our masters, Soma had finished the previous book and was busy acting out all the parts of a Shakespeare play. My master was watching and he looked amused, but I couldn't tell if it was because Prince Soma was making such a hash out of the play or if it was genuinely amusing. Certain aspects of human humor continued to elude me. Both of them were glad enough to put the play aside and have tea.

"This is one refreshing ritual of England that I like," Prince Soma said, taking his seat for tea.

"I don't think we English could survive without it," my master said. "More business is done in tea houses than in offices, I think. Without tea in front of them, most businessmen would behave like barbarians."

"It's a good thing they have tea, then," Prince Soma answered. "How are you feeling?"

"About the same, but my headache's gone."

"That is good, young master," I said, preparing his tea-time dose of medicine. "How does your throat feel?"

"Not its best, I'm afraid." He took the medicine from me and swallowed it without a complaint. "At least these potions of Lewis's are effective. Otherwise, I wouldn't take them. Did our factory in Yorkshire send those reports I requested?"

This last was addressed to me. If he was in no condition for even his school lessons, then he was in no condition for his work. "The reports arrived this morning."

He glared at me. "Why didn't you bring them to me straightaway?"

"With respect, young master, you are ill," I reminded him. "I took the liberty of looking them over, and there's nothing that needs your immediate attention."

He looked as if he would like to hurl his teacup at my head. "Sebastian, if I request reports then-"

"Sebastian's right, Ciel," Soma interrupted.

The full force of my master's temper turned on Prince Soma. "What?"

"He's right," Soma insisted. "You're ill and you need to rest, not fuss over business matters. You know Sebastian's capable of taking care of those things for you while you're ill, so why not let him? You don't have to argue about it, and I'm sure it'll save you both a headache if you just let him carry on as he's been doing. You'll have time enough later to do all the business fussing you need once you're better."

If I had been a human, I would have hugged Prince Soma. He'd grown up quite a bit since I'd first known him and it looked like he'd finally gotten some sense. Wonderful!

I could tell my master was thinking about what had been said and I knew that victory had been achieved when he laid back in his pillows and tsked. "I suppose you're right."

I stared at him in shock. Either he was deathly ill, or he was actually becoming reasonable. Either scenario was equally unbelievable.

"Oh, quit staring!" he snapped. "He's right, Sebastian, now stop looking as if I've lost my mind!"

Of all things I'd considered, _that_ had not been one of them...

The bell at the front door rang, bringing me out of my thoughts. "I'll see to that," I said, bowing. "Please excuse me."

I was glad of a chance to think about this change in my young master. Could it be that he was...well, was he growing up? I'd read that children began to shed their childish attitudes and reactions as they got older, so was his admitting that Prince Soma was right a sign of this?

I reached the front door and opened it. "Yes?"

"Delivery for the Earl Phantomhive."

I stared at the boy standing on the front steps-didn't he know that deliveries were to be made to the _back_ door? Then again, the last delivery we'd had...Hmmm. "I'll take it," I said. "Who sent it?"

"Dunno, guv," the boy said, marking himself as a resident of London's poorer neighborhoods. "Gen'mun offered me ten quid to bring this out, so 'ere I am."

"What did this gentleman look like?"

He hesitated as if unsure he should tell me.

"There's another five pounds in it for you if you can tell me," I coaxed. "We would like to thank him."

_That _did it. When all else failed, money was what talked. I could tell by the gleam in the boy's eye.

"'E was a nondescript gen'mun," he said. "Looked like 'e'd fade away if you didn't know 'e was there. Tall, dark-haired, dark pricey togs. Nothin' special, really. Had a pocket-watch like yours."

Well, that was helpful. Those criteria described half-a-million men in London alone. I thanked the boy, gave him the promised five pounds, and took the package. Immediately I checked it, but all that was inside the brown wrapping paper were three books and a card. The three books were new publications that my master had been looking forward to reading, and on the card were the words I expected to find:

_"To my own little boy."_

A/N: A stereoscope is like an early viewfinder and allowed people to see pictures or stereograms in 3-D.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My young master took the news of the arrival of another mysterious package with considerable calm. He simply looked at me and then held his hand out for it. Since there was nothing dangerous in the books or their wrappings, I handed them to him and watched as he examined each item, the wrappings, the handwriting of the address, and the handwriting on the card.

"The person who wrote the address on the wrapping and the person who wrote the card are two different people," he said. "Their handwriting is too different to be the same person's, and I can usually tell when someone tries to disguise his handwriting. The wrapping paper is too common to bother tracking down, and the books came from Hatchards." He stopped and looked carefully at the books. "Hmm. _Otto of the Silver Hand, The Aspern Papers,_ and _The Black Arrow_. I intended to buy these on my next trip into London."

"It looks like someone saved you the trip," Prince Soma said, picking up _The Black Arrow_ and leafing through the pages. "This looks like a good story, Ciel! Would you like me to read it to you?"

My young master shot him a look. "You sound like you can't wait."

"Well, it does look pretty interesting."

My and Agni's eyes met over our masters' heads. I knew we were both thinking the same things: They're a bit more alike than they know.

Prince Soma picked up the card and read it. "'To my own little boy'? What does that mean, Ciel?"

"I don't know," my young master admitted. "This is the second anonymous package I've received the last few days. Someone's sending them, but I don't know why."

"Maybe an eccentric person heard you were ill," Soma suggested. "He felt sorry for you and decided to cheer you up."

"By driving me to distraction with anonymous packages?"

"Perhaps he thinks he's giving you something to think about other than your illness."

"Perhaps he's just a bounder," my young master shot back. I could tell that his patience was wearing thin.

"Young master, I think it's time you had a little rest," I suggested smoothly. "I think your fatigue is making you snappish."

Immediately Prince Soma was terribly contrite for keeping his best friend awake.

"Why do you keep insisting that I'm your best friend?" my young master groaned. He was being rude as a host, but I could tell that he was far past caring. Shadows had become prominent under his eyes and his face had lost some of its color. He was very tired and was striving to conceal that fact.

"Because I consider you to be my best friend, and as your best friend, I'll leave you for the time being so you can rest and regain your health," Soma said grandly. "I will, however, come back tomorrow and see how you are doing."

My young master concealed his glee at that announcement very well and bade Prince Soma and Agni farewell. I could tell that he was relieved peace and quiet were on their way. I saw our two Indian friends to the door and said my farewells before returning to my master. He was prone in bed, lying there with his eyes closed.

"How do you feel, young master?"

"Tired," he said flatly. "Soma's nursing might kill me."

"Was that what he said he was doing?" I asked.

My master groaned. "Yes. He insisted that he was going to help me get well, but now I feel absolutely wretched."

"Well, we shall have to do something about that," I said. "It's most likely that you're only tired and in need of a little rest. Would you like to sleep a little? I can send you to sleep, if that's your wish."

"No," he said. "Just...stay with me until I fall asleep. It won't take long."

I did as he ordered and once he was asleep, I removed the books and other items from his bed and tidied the room before returning to my duties. Amazingly, the other servants had carried out their afternoon tasks without mishap. That meant that I could make dinner without interference. Perfect.

For dinner that night I was preparing a light lamb cassoulet with a summer pudding for afters. The cassoulet had the vegetables and proteins my master required, and the summer pudding would tempt his appetite. I chopped meat and vegetables, measured seasonings, and combined ingredients until it was time to let all of it simmer into succulence. Always, it amazed me that disparate foods could draw together to produce new tastes and textures that could delight a diner's palate. For me, cooking was like painting: Bard's comparison of cooking with art was not far off the mark, but I did not require explosions in order to produce masterpieces.

With that thought in mind, I plated the final results of my labors and carried them up to my master.

* * *

The next morning I was at my work early. While everyone else still slept, I was busy in the kitchen, getting a start on breakfast and the morning preparations. I found quiet mornings to be very restful and I relished an hour to myself when I did not have a disaster to either avert or fix.

Even better, a little black cat had shown up in the garden, and I was more than happy to fix her a small plate of something to eat and spend a few minutes admiring and petting her. Spending time with such a creature always made my day a little brighter.

"Beg yer pardon, sir."

If I hadn't been a demon, I would have been startled. As it was, I was rather surprised. Had I been so wrapped up in my adulation that I hadn't heard the child creep up on me? If my master had been there, he would have said yes, but then, I was glad that my master was not there.

"Yes, young man?" I said, getting to my feet.

He was a London street urchin. I could tell that by the mismatched and filthy garments covered with coal dust and dirt, and by the way he spoke. "Gen'mun paid me to bring this out ter ye. Said it's fer the Earl Phantomhive."

_Another?_ Oh, this was too irritating to be borne. "Thank you, I'll take it."

"Gen'mun said I was ter give it ter the Earl per-son-ally. Otherwise, I won' get the other tenner."

_This _was new. "I'm afraid that's impossible. My master is not awake yet, and he is ill besides."

"Gen'mun said ter wait if I could'n see 'im right away," the child persisted.

"Very well," I said, seeing that he wasn't about to go away. I knew determination when I saw it, and I doubted that anything I said or did (short of transforming to my real form) would sway him. "Come along with me."

The child reminded me of a bundle of sticks covered with clothing and dirt. A bundle of kindling would have looked better-fed, so I provided the child with breakfast and a place by the fire in the kitchen. All the while he ate, he held onto the package he'd brought and chattered away. His name was Charlie, he lived in the city in a place called Beard's Close (one of London's many back allies?) and tried his best to earn a living by running errands and delivering packages. He was the oldest brother of four boys and two girls, their father was dead, and the mother was ill. That morning a man had asked him to take a package to the Earl Phantomhive and he'd paid ten pounds up front with the promise of another ten after he'd delivered it to the Earl's hands himself. Now I understood why the child was so adamant on carrying out his mission: for this boy with a family to support, twenty pounds was a king's ransom and then some.

"How will he know you delivered it to the earl yourself?" I asked as I refilled his plate with eggs and sausage. I figured that as long as I kept feeding him he would keep talking.

"'E's one of 'em as _knows_ things," the boy said intensely. "'E seemed ter know all about me and I'd never seen 'im before! I won' dare lie an' say I did somethin' I didn'. 'E'd _know_."

Well, this was interesting. Hmm.

I heard the other servants on the stairs and awaited them patiently. I introduced Charlie to them and explained his presence before giving them their work assignments. Finny and Charlie seemed to take to one another right away, and I left them chattering to one another while I took up the master's tea and breakfast. As always, I pushed back the curtains and tied them back.

"Young master, it is time to wake up."

"Mmmph."

Ah, as always, he was a veritable ray of sunshine.

"Young master?"

"Go away!"

Cranky sunshine.

"It is morning, young master. It is time to wake up."

Something from the bedside table flew at my head, and I revised my opinion. He wasn't just cranky sunshine, he was cranky, dangerous sunshine to his servants. A human wouldn't have been able to dodge the projectile. What was it? Oh. A dart. "Well thrown, my lord."

My laconic reply had made him raise his head. "It can't be morning already. I feel as if I just went to sleep!"

"It is just past eight, young master. I have brought tea and breakfast."

"I don't want it," he said irritably. "I'm not hungry."

"Are you feeling worse?"

"I feel awful, just as bad as I did yesterday," he said.

"The doctor did say that it would be some time before you're well," I said. "I'm sure that if you have something to eat and drink you'll feel better. Also, I'll run you a bath. You'll feel more like yourself cleaned up and in fresh garments."

That must have been what had really been troubling him since he agreed without any argument. Once he was fed, washed, and dressed in fresh nightclothes he seemed much more agreeable.

"There's been a development in the matter of those anonymous packages, young master," I said as I helped him settle back in bed.

"What is it?"

I explained the matter to him and once I'd finished I could see a gleam in his eye. It was a gleam that I'd seen many times before. It was a gleam that said the hunter could smell the prey and the chase was on. "Bring him up, Sebastian. I want to talk to this boy."

"Yes, my lord."

Charlie was perfectly happy to follow me to the master's room. As I led him through the corridors, I kept hearing "Cor!" and "Blimey!" as he looked around. He seemed very impressed with the house and I took a bit of professional pride in his praise. He lost all words, though when he saw the master's bedroom.

"Charlie, my lord," I said as I led the way into the young master's room. In the doorway I looked at the room the way Charlie might perceive it and I had to admit to myself that it was impressive.

Too late I realized that that wasn't why he was staring. He was staring at the young master.

"Blimey! _You're_ the earl?"

My master gave him a black look. "I am. Sebastian tells me you have a package for me and that you're required to deliver it to me personally."

"You ain't no earl!" Charlie said, still staring. "Earls are all old!"

"I assure you that my master is the Earl Phantomhive," I said quickly before my master could reach for the darts or any other projectiles. "He inherited the title a few years ago when his parents died."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," Charlie said. "Wasn't expecting a kid like me to be an earl."

My master glared, and I could read in his face that he felt it would be impossible for an idiot like Charlie to be an earl. Myself, I was of the opinion that anyone could be an earl or a street urchin, but then, I knew to keep my opinions to myself.

"Anyways, here's yer package," Charlie said, approaching the bed. "'E said I was to give it ter yer, so that's what I'm doin'."

I moved to my master's side as Charlie held out the package and as soon as it brushed my master's fingers I had it.

"Hey!" Charlie yelped. "I wasn't s'pposed ter give it ter you! I'm s'pposed to give it ter him!"

"I handed it to Sebastian," my young master said calmly. "My family has many enemies, and Sebastian makes sure that each thing I receive is safe."

Charlie was quiet at that, but I could tell that he was still worried. I unwrapped the package and felt myself cringe when I saw the words on the box. Whoever had sent this package was a sadist with no humanity in his heart. Even worse, he had no idea of what sick children absolutely should not have under any circumstances.

The package was a three-pound box of chocolates. Oh, the battles the young master and I would have over their consumption. I could tell they were coming. The chocolates were from Charbonnel et Walker, the confectionery that supplied the Queen with her chocolate. There was no way he was going to let me put those chocolates anywhere but back in his hands. I could smell no poison or drugs in the chocolates, there were no contact poisons anywhere on any of the packaging, and I knew those chocolates' days were numbered.

"Is there a card, Sebastian?"

I handed it to him. "There is."

He took it and read it aloud. "'To my own little boy.' Well, this is interesting."

I couldn't help but agree.

My master took the box of chocolates, opened it, and held it out to me. "Would you like one, Sebastian?"

I hadn't expected that amount of forethought and caution where chocolates were concerned, so it was fully possible that he was using his head. "Thank you, my lord." I could not really taste or appreciate human food-most of it seemed bland or insipid to me, but I could detect poison or drugs, and tasting something was far more reliable than smelling it. "Delicious, young master," I said, to let him know they were all right.

To my great surprise, he offered one to Charlie before taking one-just one!-for himself. "You're quite right, Sebastian. Thank you for bringing this to me, Charlie. I understand you're to meet this man again for the second half of your payment. Will you tell him that I thank him most kindly and would like to see him soon?"

"Surely, my lord," Charlie said.

"Sebastian, could you put these away for when I'm well?" he asked, closing the box and handing it to me.

"My goodness, you _are_ ill," I said. "Certainly, young master."

"Sebastian will see you out," my young master said in dismissal. "Sebastian, I trust you to take care of this."

I understood. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

Before Charlie left, I had him follow me to the kitchen. There I packed him a bundle of food for him to eat on his way back to London and to share later with his family and I told him to report to the Funtom offices in London. There he would be given a steady job with good pay so he could support his family. The poor boy took my hand and wrung it, thanking me over and over and calling me a "bleedin' saint."

"Now, now, there's no need for that," I said, amazed at the amount of emotion the boy was displaying. "Just report to the Funtom offices as I told you. It's the least we can do. Oh, one more thing," I said, taking out my wallet. "You brought that package all the way here; I should give you a little tip."

He almost fainted when I handed him ten pounds.

"I cain't take it, sir," he said after a moment. "I ain't done nothing ter deserve it."

"I should think no one deserves it more," I countered. "After all, you're a good lad who takes care of his family and I dare say that an extra ten pounds could come in handy one day."

Put like that, the boy could hardly say no. He thanked me a few more times before I saw him out, and once I was sure that he was entirely confused by his good fortune, I began to follow. I made sure to stay out of his sight and watched him, hoping that he would lead me to whoever he was going to meet for the second part of his payment. He already had the first ten pounds, the ten pounds I had given him, and with the second ten pounds he'd been promised, he'd be thirty pounds richer for the one errand. I had a strong feeling that he could use as much money as he could get. He'd meet our mysterious package sender for that promised ten pounds. Of that, I was sure.

I followed him down roads and slowly into London. We were close to Threadneedle Street when the boy stopped at a corner and waited. He was there less than five minutes before someone approached him. The poor boy jumped when he realized that someone was standing next to him.

"Blimey!" I heard him yelp. "Don' sneak up on a fellow like that!"

"My apologies," I heard. "How did it go?"

"I took the package out like yer said," Charlie told him. "The butler tried ter take it, but I insisted, so he let me see the earl. I put it in the earl's 'ands, but the earl, 'e 'anded it ter the butler so's he could check it over. 'E said the butler always checks everythin' 'e gets."

"I don't doubt it," the man said. "You've done your part well, youngster."

"The earl gave me a message fer ye," Charlie said. "He said I was ter thank yer kindly an' that 'e looks forward ter seein' ye soon."

"Ah, thank you," he said. "I look forward to seeing him as well. Now, here is your ten pounds, and an extra five for your trouble. Thank you again."

"Thankee, sir!" Charlie said. "Oh, thankee!"

"And thank you for running that errand for me."

Hastily Charlie said his goodbyes and ducked into the street before thanking his benefactor one more time. I watched and managed to get a good look at him. He was pale with dark hair and he was dressed almost identically to me. He even had a watch chain and pocket watch.

A sudden sharp pain in my arm made my look down. I couldn't believe that a fork had suddenly embedded itself in my bicep and it took me moment to realize what I was seeing. I leapt away, certain that the situation had become much more serious that I'd thought it to be.

"Did no one ever tell you that it is wrong to spy?" I heard as I landed on the roof of an apothecary's shop.

"I am merely doing my duty to my young master," I answered smoothly, pulling out the fork. "Do you always impale innocent bystanders with silverware?"

"When the situation calls for it, of course." He bowed. "I am Stephen Marcellus, butler to Sir Charles Emmeridge."

"An honor. Sebastian Michaelis, butler to the Earl Phantomhive, at your service."

He smiled. "And I at yours."

I echoed his smile. "I must confess, I am intrigued by all these packages you have been sending my young master."

His eyes gleamed. "Ah, I merely follow orders, Mr. Michaelis. I'm sure you understand."

"And what does Sir Charles Emmeridge wish with my young master?"

"I am afraid that is my master's affair, sir," Marcellus said politely.

"Of course. However, if it is any way a threat to my young master, you must understand that I shall act accordingly."

"I do not doubt it. But then again, please remember that I have my orders, and I am sure that you have yours. A master's orders are absolute. Otherwise, what kind of butlers would we be?"

"Quite," I said dryly.

"I can ease your mind, though," he said, pacing a little to the left. "My master has only your master's welfare at heart."

"I beg to differ. A three-pound box of expensive chocolates is not what I would call a suitable gift for a sick child."

"Well, my master is well-aware that your master likes sweets, so he sent him something to cheer him up. How is your master's bronchitis? Being ill must surely be a trial for him."

I blinked and fought to keep my temper. "You are very well-informed, Mr. Marcellus. I must confess that I wonder how you are getting your information."

"Oh, I have my eyes and ears," he said lightly.

I could not believe that this individual had somehow crept onto the Phantomhive manor without my knowing it. No, I would have sensed him if he had. He must have had some other way of learning things, one that I was not watching for.

"I am sure you do," I said calmly. "I must warn you, however, that your eyes and ears can trick you." I was implying that he wasn't as good at spying as he thought he was, and I could tell that I struck a nerve. Like me, his competence was his pride. His shadow shifted and took on a darker hue, the outline of his true form becoming visible. He was powerful, very, very powerful, and he was older than I was by a good two thousand years. The only reason he had yet to kill me was the fact that he was of the class of demons who did not wish to kill others of their kind. They saw it as a waste, and I was thankful that his sense of aesthetics had stayed his hand. I could have fought back and possibly triumphed, but the fight would be long and difficult and I would take significant damage. Added to that, it would take me quite some time to recuperate and I would be practically no better than a human invalid; one quite incapable of protecting anyone else. If I were to fight this demon, then I would be at a strong disadvantage for far too long afterward. No, it was better to err on the side of caution here.

"You must forgive me if I disagree, Mr. Michaelis. Please give your master my master's regards, and please know that you have mine. This has been a pleasant conversation."

"Very pleasant," I agreed. "Enlightening."

He smiled. "I am sure."

He moved so quickly that I almost didn't see what he did. In the time of a second, he turned and leapt off the roof, landed in the traffic below, and took off into the depths of the city. The horses in the street spooked or reared and their drivers cursed them, but they hadn't seen what had frightened the poor beasts. Oh, yes, he was very powerful, indeed.

I would need every bit of my vigilance in order to protect my master. I had a feeling that this business was just beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hey, kudos to everyone who's reviewed! That rocks my socks. I guess I must be doing something that people like since I've had so many hits and alerts. Awesome! Thanks!

Chapter 3

I returned to the house as quickly as I could and immediately began to review our defenses. In my first few days as the Phantomhive butler, I'd installed certain defenses that only demons knew how to use. I was determined to protect my master not only from mortal threats, but from immortal ones as well. I knew that others would find his soul as enticing as I did and I wanted to take what steps I could to protect him and his soul. Over time, I found myself wanting to protect my master on principle and part of my self-imposed daily duties were to check the wards I'd put on the estate. I noticed that they had not been breached in my absence or at any time previous, so that reassured me that Mr. Marcellus had not been on the estate. That left the fact that he was somehow spying on us. Hmm.

I reported the results of my excursion to my master. I found him in his bed right where I'd left him, and Prince Soma had come and was reading _The Black Arrow_ aloud to him. The two of them were engrossed in the story and they only noticed I was in the room when I cleared my throat.

"Hello, Sebastian!" Soma said brightly. "How are you?"

"I am fine, thank you for asking, Prince Soma," I said. "And you?" After all, a butler had to be polite.

"Just fine," he said lightly. "I'm here to keep Ciel company."

"I'm glad to see that," I said. If Soma was there, then Agni was there, and that meant there was one more person who would be willing to help protect my master. Besides, Agni was a friend, and I had very few. I had a feeling that I would need all the friends around me I could get in the days ahead.

"How did your errand go?" my master asked.

"It was interesting," I told him. "Very, very interesting. I met your benefactor's butler and he's a lot like me."

_That_ surprised him as much as it had surprised me. "Indeed? Well, that's interesting."

"Yes, very," I agreed.

"Sebastian!" Agni said as he opened the door, tray in hand. "Good to see you!"

"It's very nice to see you as well, Agni," I said, my happiness plain. A friend was always a welcome sight. "Am I to take it that you've been keeping an eye on your master and mine while I was away?"

"Ah, well, I'm happy to help," he said, placing the tray on the bedside table. "I've brought lunch for our masters."

Already I could see Soma craning his neck to see what was on the tray. For him there was lamb curry, but for my master, there was a soup thick with vegetables and meat. Ahh, perfect. The nutrients in both were just what he needed in his debilitated state.

"I'm not sure I'm hungry," my young master said, looking dubiously at his meal.

"Try at least a bite," I coaxed. "It may be that your appetite just needs to be woken up."

I was glad to see that he took my advice without arguing, and a few minutes later he was eating with gusto.

"This is very good, Agni," he said, surprising me. "Could you give the recipe to Sebastian?"

"Certainly," he said.

"Agni's a master at cooking," Soma said. "I've told him that he should publish a recipe book. It would be a best-seller!"

"I might want a signed copy," I joked. "Agni, do you think you could show me that recipe while our masters are eating?"

"Gladly, Sebastian," he said, leaving the room with me.

"What is it?" he asked as soon as we were out of earshot.

His sudden intensity surprised me. "I'm sorry?"

"Something's worrying you," he said, pinning me with a steely gaze. "Is it this package person?"

I was so surprised that I did something I rarely do: I spoke without thinking. "How did you know that?"

"It's also worrying Ciel," he said. "I kept seeing him glance at the things he's received lately."

"I see," I said.

"Is it something you can share with me?" he asked.

"I'm not certain yet," I said. "It may turn out to be nothing or it may be something after all. Once I know for sure, though..." I let my voice trail off. While I couldn't tell Agni everything (after all, could I trust him with the fact that there was a demon standing right in front of him?) I might be able to tell him certain things if the situation called for them. My strongest inclination was to trust him with everything and unburden myself, but I had no idea where that urge came from and it unsettled me. Had I been living as a human too long? Was I _becoming_ human?

In the next moment I rejected that thought. I was a demon through and through, to the core, and masquerading as a human wouldn't change me at that level. I might be pretending to be human and I might have fallen into certain patterns of thinking in order to sustain my role, but I wasn't changing.

Where on earth did these ridiculous thoughts come from? Honestly!

"It must be worrying you a great deal," Agni said as we reached the kitchen. "You've gotten very quiet all of a sudden."

"It does worry me," I confessed. "There are too many things about this situation that I don't know, and I can't really predict what is going to happen. Most times, I can guess what will happen, but with this problem, there are too many variables that I can't see. Prediction is almost impossible in this case." It was true, too. I couldn't predict what Stephen Marcellus would do next. A demon two thousand years older than I would have been able to learn a great deal in that time, and the power he'd accumulated during his lifetime or inherited from his bloodline would be considerable. He was of a higher "class" so to speak, and I knew how I and other demons of my class thought, and I knew how the lower classes thought, but the higher classes...Hmmm.

Demon hierarchy somewhat reflected human hierarchy with its positions. In human hierarchy there was the monarch, of course, then princes, dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts, barons, and baronets. Below those ranks were the commoners. There were many demons who could be called commoners, but there were about five thousand of the "titled" ranks. The highest rank were the demons who had been around since almost the beginning of time, the ones below them were their children. Other demons of the titled ranks were either their descendants or common demons who had worked themselves up through the ranks by gaining in power.

I was of a high class of demonkind. Both my mother and my father had been from the same class, but a demon could grow in power during his lifetime and move up in the classes if he wished to put in the work, or he could stick with his birthright. I could tell that this Stephen Marcellus was a birthright demon of a class higher than mine, which was worrisome. My birthright class was that of a "marquis" demon, which meant that he was either a "duke" or "prince." There was only one "monarch" demon and I would know him right away if I saw him. Any demon would, and most would run for their lives. My reaction as a "marquis" would be to kneel with the utmost respect and hope I'd done nothing to offend him. Demons who offended the monarch did not survive long, regardless of class.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

I came back to myself, chagrined that I'd allowed my mind to wander off. "Oh, blast. I apologize, Agni. I shouldn't allow my worry make me ignore my friends."

"You weren't ignoring me; you were distracted," Agni said graciously. "I was showing you the recipe, but I don't think your mind's on cooking right now."

"Given my behavior, I'm surprised my mind is able to focus on anything at all," I sighed. "I don't like feeling so powerless. Usually, I can handle any situation that arises, but I'm afraid that I won't be able to handle this one."

"I was once told that when something worried me, I should ask myself what would the worst thing to occur would be if it did happen," Agni suggested.

I asked myself that question and I wondered what he would think of my answer: Mayhem, chaos, destruction, fire and brimstone, my death, the possible death of my master, the loss of his soul, the loss of my _dinner_... All of that, and the master's dinner would be late to boot. "That question just makes me worry more," I said quickly. "May we postpone this until this evening? I would very much like it if you and your master stayed the night. I would feel better having you here with us and I'm sure that my master will enjoy having a friend with him."

Agni threw his head back and laughed. "I just hope that your master doesn't attempt killing mine! I know that he sometimes annoys Ciel."

I smiled. "Despite the annoyance, they seem to get along all right now. Weren't they deep in _The Black Arrow_?"

Agni grinned. "Oh, yes, they were, indeed. Nothing like a good tale to keep them distracted."

"Oh, yes. Books can often soothe my master when I can do nothing with him. Books and a good cup of tea."

* * *

By tea time, the two of them had finished _The Black Arrow_ and were deep in a discussion of its plot, its merits and its shortcomings. Agni and I served tea while they debated plot lines and we listened indulgently while they argued back and forth about the book. More than once either Agni or I were appealed to as a court of last resort on an issue, but like the practiced butlers we were, we managed to remain neutral and unobtrusive. Besides, it was more trouble than it was worth to try to disagree with either of them. I had a large enough headache already.

Eventually, they abandoned the topic and moved on to other areas, only later to set up the chess board and challenge one another. Soma had learned chess and could play to a creditable degree, but my master had far more practice, both on the board and in life. The first few games were routs that fell to my master, but Soma began to show a degree of spirit when he managed a game in five moves.

My master stared. "How did you do that?"

"I've been reading books about chess," Soma confessed. "That was one of the tricks listed in one of the books."

The young master's eyes seemed to have caught fire. "Teach me!"

Knowing that our masters would be preoccupied for the foreseeable future, Agni and I returned to our duties not a moment too soon. Bard, deciding to get a start on dinner, caught fire to the kitchen and himself. He wasn't seriously hurt, his hair was just a trifle shorter and we would have to replace his clothes and his aprons. Yes, all of them. When he burned one apron to ash, why he thought that waving the rest of his aprons at the blaze would help was beyond me...

Finny and Mey-Rin had managed to avoid trouble that afternoon, thank goodness, so I had the two of them help Agni and I repair the damage Bard had caused. (While Bard wasn't hurt, I deemed it prudent to have him go upstairs and lie down and drink copious amounts of water to offset any dehydration. Besides if he was laying down, then he wasn't in the kitchen causing trouble.) With the two of us working together and Mey-Rin and Finny helping where Agni told them (his ability to handle them was incredible and while I was deeply envious of his skills I wondered if his capabilities with them came from his being human), we were able to return the kitchen to its unsinged state and to have dinner prepared on time.

Prince Soma and my young master were appreciative of the carefully prepared dishes we took up to them. Each dish was purported to be very good for someone who was ill, but Soma didn't seem to mind that at all. My young master ate a good bit of his veal cutlet, most of the new roasted red potatoes and some of the greens before declaring that he'd had sufficient to eat and wished his plate to be taken away.

"Would you care for dessert, Bocchan?" I asked.

He shook his head. "My throat hurts again."

"Are you sure? It might help your throat feel better," Agni coaxed. "We prepared shaved ice with orange syrup."

That caught his attention. "Well, maybe just a little," he conceded.

Shortly after managing half his dessert he asked that a hot bath be drawn for him, he was tired and more than ready to go to bed. He was, to use the common phrase, running out of steam.

"Of course!" Soma said, leaping out of his chair. "You have to go to bed early when you're ill! Agni, you and Sebastian prepare a bath!"

"I will take care of that, Prince Soma," I said quickly before my young master could take umbrage at Soma's orders to someone who was not his butler. "In the meantime, Agni will attend to you."

My master raised his head from his pillows. "What are you on about, Sebastian?"

I crossed an arm over my chest and bowed low. "I beg you'll forgive me, young master, but I took the liberty of inviting Agni and his master Prince Soma to remain here tonight." For a butler, it was one of the largest liberties to invite a guest to remain in his master's house and there had been men who had been sacked for less.

He stared at me. "You're right, it is a liberty, but I shall allow it to pass. Do you at least have a good reason for such an action?"

"Aside from the reason that having a friend nearby when you are ill will be good for you, yes, a very good reason."

I could tell from his expression that he didn't think having Soma around would be good for him, but he accepted it. "Very well, Sebastian. I shall leave it to you. Once you get our guests settled, come and see to my bath."

"That Ciel is really something," Prince Soma said as I led him and Agni to their quarters.

"Oh, yes," I agreed. He didn't know half of it. "I'm sure that's clearly true, but what makes you say so this time?"

"He ordered you to see to our comfort before you saw to his," Soma clarified. "Even ill, he doesn't forget his duties as a host."

I smiled as I listened to Prince Soma's praise of my master. There were times when the job paid off in unexpected ways. This was one of them.

* * *

I returned to my master once Soma and Agni were settled for the night and ran his bath. While helping him wash I described my conversation with Stephen Marcellus and told my master what I had realized about him.

"You're saying he's more powerful than you are?" he said as I helped him wrap up in a towel.

"That is certain," I told him. "He's very powerful. I can fight him and possibly prevail against him, but I would be injured very badly. It is possible that I might be killed." I hadn't wanted to admit that, but in this situation it was better to be honest. Refusing to admit the truth might get us both killed.

"I thought nothing could defeat you," he said as I helped him into his nightshirt.

"Nothing mortal," I corrected. "It is possible for other demons to defeat me, but that's only if they're superior in power. Since I am a high-ranking demon, and those higher in rank are relatively rare in this part of the world, that hasn't been an issue yet."

"Until now," my master said as I led him back to his bed. "And he serves this Sir Charles Emmeridge."

"Do you know him, Bocchan?"

He shook his head. "This is the first time I've heard the name. Bring me Burke's and Debrett's."

_Burke's and Debrett's_ was shorthand for _Burke's Peerage and Gentry_ and _Debrett's Peerage, _the definitive guides to England's royal and noble families. Both listed information on each current title-holder, such as birthplace, their relations, any marriages or children, titles, lands, and business ventures. If Sir Charles was truly entitled to "Sir," then he would be listed in the books. My own master was listed in both under "Phantomhive."

A few minutes' searching proved that there was, indeed, a Sir Charles Emmeridge. He was a baronet with one small estate called Blackwell in Yorkshire and a house in London. He was the sole heir of his father and the last surviving member of the family. According to the books, he had not married and he had no children, and the only business venture listed was a network of five textile mills all located in England.

"That tells us practically nothing," my master muttered, setting the books aside.

"It tells us something, but not what we need to know," I corrected.

"Why he's suddenly fixated on me, for example?"

"Exactly."

"Perhaps he's mad," my master said off-handedly.

A mad person made even my skin crawl. At the best of times, I did not like dealing with them. "Oh, I hope not. The last madman we dealt with...I'm not eager for a repeat performance." The madman in question...the less said, the better.

"Nor am I," my master admitted. "I had nightmares for a week after that."

I knew very well he'd had nightmares and that they'd lasted for longer than a week. He always woke up in a cold sweat from each of them, and it always took me several hours to calm him enough so he could sleep. Eventually, the nightmares tapered off, but the memories remained. "Well, young master, to forestall any nightmares tonight, would you like me to read to you? To tell a story, perhaps?"

My master settled back into his pillows. He appeared to be thinking. "Tell me about the Black Forest."

I smiled. When he did not feel well or couldn't sleep and I offered to tell him a story, he almost always asked to hear about the Black Forest. I'd spent a few years there, enjoying the solitude, and I could always bring the Black Forest of Germany into his bedroom through my voice. Such a description was very soothing to tell and I could guess that it was just as soothing to hear.

It did not take long for him to go to sleep. Once he was asleep, I checked the safety wards on the young master's room and satisfied that they were in place, I went about my other duties. I went through the house and around the boundaries of the estate, checking each ward I'd set up. All were exactly as they should be and none of them showed signs of tampering. None of them showed that another demon had been on the estate.

Interesting.

I returned to the house and began to wander the halls, my mind working on our problem. A large part of me wanted to run to wherever Sir Charles was and demand an accounting of his actions, but I knew that that was impractical. No, I would have to wait until they made a move.

"Sebastian?"

Agni was on the stairs above me. "Hello, Agni."

"Is all well?"

"So far," I said. "The bocchan is asleep, the grounds are quiet, the doors and windows are all locked. I thought you would be asleep by now."

"I'm not tired," he shrugged. "I thought I would keep you company."

"So, you couldn't sleep, either?" Technically, my question was true. I couldn't sleep while my master was in danger, so really, I _couldn't_ sleep...

He gave a rueful smile. "No."

"Well, I'm wandering the house and keeping my eyes and ears open," I said. "You can wander with me if you wish, or circle outside the house. If you call me, I will hear you."

"Which would make you feel more secure? One of us inside and the other outside?"

Sometimes, having Agni see into my mind like that was almost scary..."That is a very good idea, Agni, and thank you."

"You're welcome. Shall we meet at the front door in an hour and switch?"

"That's perfect."

As we said, so we did, and the hours passed. My vigilance only increased as the time ground on, the darkest part of the night was not yet here, and that was the time when demons were strongest. If they wished to make a move, that would be the ideal time. Ten o'clock passed, then eleven, twelve, one, and two. As the clock neared three my nerves wound themselves tight, but the hour and then the half-hour passed and there was nothing. Time continued on to four, then five, then six, and then there was daylight.

How...anticlimactic.

"Anything?" Agni asked as he met me once more, soon after the clock struck six.

"Nothing," I sighed. "I don't know whether to be relieved or otherwise."

"Settle for lukewarm relief," Agni suggested. "Let's make breakfast."

"I'll make breakfast; you go upstairs and sleep for a while. Don't worry, I'll take care of Soma."

He looked at me. There were dark circles under his eyes and fatigue was written in every feature. He needed sleep and I could tell that he knew it. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. I'll come and wake you later."

"Thank..."

A sudden scream cut off Agni's thanks and I flew into the house, up the stairs, down the hall, and towards my master's room. I nearly took the door off the hinges opening it, and in the room in a heap on the floor, crouched my master. His hands were covering his head and he was trembling violently. "Bocchan!" I shouted, hurrying to his side. "Bocchan, what is it?"

Agni arrived just as I reached my young master. He looked as if he'd forgotten all about sleep. "I've never seen a man run so fast, Sebastian! Is the Earl all right?"

"He's badly frightened," I said, putting a careful arm around my master. There were times when he hated to have others touch him, but strangely, he did not mind my touch at all. I'd once asked him, but all he'd said about the matter was that I was "safe." A "safe" demon. The irony was not lost on me, but if he felt safe due to my touch, then I would touch him. "It's all right, young master. I'm here. Tell me what happened."

"It tr-tr-tried t-t-t-to t-t-take m-m-m-me out th-the w-w-w-window," he stammered, fighting hard to speak through chattering teeth.

"It?" I prompted.

"M-m-m-monster."

This confused me no end. Ciel Phantomhive, afraid of a monster? I had sensed no creature that wasn't supposed to be on the estate, there were no odd scents to indicate an odd creature's presence...It didn't make sense.

"Were you dreaming?" I asked.

"N-N-NO!" he shouted. "I-i-it w-w-was r-r-r-real!"

"What did it look like?" Agni asked, kneeling down beside my master just as Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finny arrived in the doorway.

"B-b-b-big a-a-and gr-gr-gray a-and s-s-s-stretched out. L-l-like s-s-someone t-t-took a d-d-dead m-m-man a-and s-s-stretched him."

No wonder he'd screamed. "It is all right, bocchan," I said quietly. "We're all here, and we're not going to allow anyone or anything to hurt you." I turned to Phantomhive's servants. "Mey-Rin, Finny, Bard, you know what to do."

"Yes, Sebastian!" they chorused, and then they were off.

"Agni, the young master is all right; you had best check on your master."

Agni gasped and flew out the door. He'd been so taken aback by my young master's fear that he'd had no thought for anything else.

"It's all right, bocchan," I said, lifting him in my arms and taking a seat in a chair. "It's all right. I'm here. I'll protect you. Nothing shall harm you. I promise."

As he buried his face in my shoulder and shook, I hoped that I could keep that promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I had a very, very frightened master. I could not believe this was the same child. He refused to have me leave him for any reason and most of the time I had to be close enough for him to touch. For the first few hours after his scare, though, that wasn't an issue. He remained on my lap clutching the lapels of my coat, his face buried in my shoulder, and he was shaking. I had to keep up a litany of reassurance the whole time, telling him that I was there and that I would protect him and nothing would harm him. If I loosened my arms his fear increased, so I kept my grip constant and held him while I murmured reassurances. I stroked his hair, massaged his neck, and rubbed his back; doing everything I could think of to calm him and let him know that I was there.

Agni brought us breakfast at some point, but I knew that my master was in no mood to eat. The scent of tea and the sight of such an every-day item as a breakfast tray seemed to break some of his paralysis, because he asked to be moved to the bed. I did so, but when I began to move away, his hand shot out of the blankets and latched onto my sleeve.

"Stay beside me," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

"I shall remain beside you all your life, Bocchan," I said gently. "Do you wish anything to eat or drink?"

"No," he said quietly. "Just stay near me."

I stayed…and stayed…and stayed. Occasionally his hand would reach for me, and I would be within reach, as promised. More than once he slipped his hand into mine and dozed. Each time he dozed he did not release my hand, and more than once his grip would have been painful if I'd been human. I had a strong feeling that those grips were caused by unpleasant dreams.

"How's it going?" Agni asked quietly at lunchtime. He'd brought another tray and tsked when he saw the untouched breakfast. "You two haven't eaten a thing!"

"I wasn't hungry, and neither was my young master," I said wearily. "I've never seen him so frightened, Agni. He's never been so frightened in all the time I've known him. I feel…I feel so helpless." It was true. I didn't know what to do for him or how to make the fear go away. I needed his insight into human fear. I wasn't a human and while I could be afraid of something and I could feel fear, I couldn't experience it the same way a human would. "Help me, Agni. How do I make his fear go away?"

"By doing exactly as you're doing," he said kindly. "You're letting him know that you're there and that you're protecting him. That's all he needs right now. Why do you think he hasn't wanted you to leave his side?"

Hmmm. Put _that_ way, I could see his point.

"Can you eat with your left hand?" Agni asked.

"I can use both my right and my left," I said, looking down at my right hand. My master's hand was still curled in mine and it didn't look as if he was letting go anytime soon.

"All right," Agni said, moving a small table over to a spot just in front of me. He took a plate and silverware from the tray and put them on the table. "Eat."

I stared at the food. It looked like an illustration out of Mrs. Beeton's book and the smell was delightful, but I didn't need to eat. "Ah…"

"Don't even think of arguing," Agni said quietly but fiercely. "Your master is ill and under some sort of threat, and you need to be in your best condition. That means eating, even if you don't feel like it. I'm going to stand here and I'm not leaving until you've swallowed every last bit of food on that plate."

If I could just _tell_ Agni that I was a demon, then difficult scenes like this could be avoided. Playing human could be difficult enough at times, but eating food…I looked up at him. "Agni…"

The look he was giving me would have sent most men running for cover. I did not run, but I did have the urge to back away. I hadn't known that a human being could look so…so _fierce_.

"All right," I capitulated. "Thank you for the meal."

"You're welcome," he said, pouring me a cup of tea to go with my meal.

The generous helping of the dish I had in front of me was listed as Baked Beef in Mrs. Beeton's book, but in some circles it would be called Shepherd's Pie. It was good, plain food that used up the inevitable leftovers a large house generated, and he'd actually made the beef over with a good curry sauce rather than the gravy and ale the book suggested. The end result was very good for human food and I wished my master would wake up so he could have his portion while it was still hot. I knew he didn't care for spicy food, but I had a feeling he would enjoy this dish at least. I knew he would be very amused at the fact that I'd somewhat enjoyed a human meal, and I was eager for him to wake so I could tell him. He might actually laugh.

Agni was as good as his word and stood sentinel over me while I ate. As soon as I finished the beef dish he whisked the plate away from me and replaced it with a dessert. Baked apple dumplings with sweet cream. Oh, dear. I doubted that I had the interior space for that.

"I can't eat that right away," I said. "I'm still recovering from the lunch."

"All right," Agni said, placing the master's plate on the hob at the fire to keep it warm. "I'll stay with you a while longer."

If he hadn't been my friend, I'd have swatted him upside the head for being a pain in the…ah, neck.

About fifteen minutes passed before I attempted to swallow the apple dumplings and amazingly, I managed a large portion of them before I had to beg off eating the rest of them. I had no more space inside for food and I was certain that if I tried to swallow any more of it I would be ill. A demon ill due to human food is not a pretty sight nor is it a pleasant experience for the suffering demon, so I wanted to avoid such an event if I could. Fortunately, my master chose this moment to wake up.

He stared at me, stared at the plate-covered table in front of me, and then stared at Agni. "What's all this?"

"Forgive me if I did something to wake you," Agni said quickly. "I was just making sure that Sebastian had something to eat. If he is going to protect you properly, then he needs food."

My master stared at me again and then looked at the remains of my dessert. "You sat down and ate a proper meal?" he said in disbelief. "I can't believe it. You never do that."

_And I have good reason not to,_ I thought. Eating complete meals of food I couldn't really taste properly or digest several times a day would have made me sick to my stomach faster than anything else. In comparison to a human soul, food was a very poor substitute for nourishment. "Agni insisted, master."

He was still staring. "I'm not still dreaming, am I?"

I chuckled. Was that what he thought? Ah, he never ceased to amuse me. "No, you are not dreaming. Watch." I could manage one more small bite, so I took just that, nothing more. My master watched as I put a forkful of apple dumpling into my mouth, removed the fork and chewed. I swallowed, and his eyes grew wide.

"I knew you ate sometimes, but seeing you do it…"

"Of course, young master. It is not proper for a butler to take his meals with his employer."

That seemed to remind him that I was playing a human butler in front of an outsider, so he nodded. "Quite right, Sebastian."

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Hungry, and I think the aroma of your food worked its way into my dreams. I was dreaming about a feast."

Agni chuckled and fetched my master's portions of lunch and dessert. "The spices in the sauce will actually be good for your throat and sinuses," he said, placing both dishes on a tray and putting the tray across his lap so he could eat. "They should ease the soreness in your throat and the pressure in your head, and you'll feel much better."

"I hope so," he said, picking up his fork after a nod of thanks to Agni. "Has there been any more trouble today?"

"So far, nothing," I admitted. I wished I'd been able to do some investigating while my master slept, but there was no point in regretting that now. I had a feeling that I would get to do all the investigating I wished later.

A knock on the door drew our attention. It was Mey-Rin. "Sorry to interrupt, but a package was delivered…"

As soon as she said the word "package" I was by her side. "I'll take it Mey-Rin."

She blinked and handed the large flat package to me. "Yes, Sebastian. Um, should I tell the person who brought it to wait?"

I nodded as I unwrapped the package and found nothing more exciting in it than a rather large clothing box. Mey-Rin left to return to the messenger. I did indeed want to speak to him about this package. Upon opening the box I found a quantity of white tissue paper covering…a suit of clothes, shoes, hat, and coat. Oh. Most interesting, this. Did they doubt my ability to dress my master properly? The idea was preposterous!

"What's in it?" my master asked.

His voice brought me out of my momentary rage and I checked the clothes thoroughly. I knew there were poisons that were activated by body heat, but there were no signs of them. "It's a suit of clothes, master." I carried them over to the bed to show him, and he stared at them.

They were in his favorite shade of dark blue and I could tell that these had been privately tailored rather than purchased at Harrods. The shirt and underthings were silk and fine linen, and the suit itself was made of lambswool. The stockings were knitted lambswool, the gloves were black silk, and the shoes were a very expensive grade of leather and were hand-made. With the outfit were a matching coat and a top hat in black silk. My young master's tailor couldn't have done better. Again, there was a card. _Too my own little boy._

"They have my measurements?" he said in disbelief as he examined the clothes.

"I doubt they could have those," Agni said quickly. "Those clothes are probably either too small or too big."

My master looked closely. "They look about right."

I knelt down beside his bed. "Young master, I must go speak to the messenger who brought this. Would it be all right if Agni stayed with you until I return?"

I could see his reluctance to have me go in his face, but he nodded. "That will be fine, Sebastian."

"Then I won't be long, Bocchan," I said as I set the clothing aside. "Have your lunch, and I'll be back."

I was glad to hear him pick up a fork as I left the room. While it was nice to have a compliant master for a change, I hoped he would be well soon. "Ciel Phantomhive" and "obedient" just did not make sense when put together. My master had turned willfulness into an art form and it was somewhat depressing to see an artist set aside his art.

The messenger was yet another ragged boy, and I saw that Mey-Rin had been quite clever in getting him to stick around. She had placed a whole tray of iced tea cakes in front of him and he was in the process of devouring them. Clever, clever girl. I could see she'd had her eyes open when our last messenger had been here and was applying what she'd learned: any ragged boy will eat what you put in front of him, and he will be in no hurry to go as long as you offer food. It was highly unlikely that any boy would turn down a treat like tea cakes.

"Thank you for having him wait, Mey-Rin," I said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. "Now, who do we have here?"

"This is Toby, Sebastian."

"Good to meet you, Toby," I said as the boy finished his present cake. "You brought a package out to us today, did you not?"

"Thet I did, sir," he said. His accent marked him coming from a neighborhood like Charlie's. "Gen'mun asked me to bring it ter the Earl Phantomhive. Gave me a tenner."

I'd expected the ten pounds. "What was he like?"

"A gen'mun like you, sir," he said. "Tall, pale, dark-haired, an' 'e had a watch an' watch-chain. Called 'imself Mr. Marcellus. Asked me te give this te you." He held out an envelope sealed with black wax.

A letter? Hmm. "Thank you," I said as I took it. I broke the seal and opened it, running my eyes over the elegant yet stark calligraphy.

_My Dear Mr. Michaelis,_ I read. _Doubtless you'll have received the package my master sent to your master. The garments are gifts for him to wear or not as he pleases. My master hopes that your master is on the mend and will be well soon, and he looks forward to seeing him. As for myself, I look forward to seeing you in the future. I have been so bold to write to you because I wish to let you know that I have nothing against you personally. On the whole, I think you are a rather excellent fellow and that if I were forced to kill you the world would be losing an exemplary demon. In another situation, the two of us might have been friends. To bring your existence to an end is a wish that is far from my mind; however, I must carry out my master's orders. If you attempt to keep me from carrying them out, then I will do what I must. I am sure you understand my situation. I have no wish to hurt you, so when the time comes, do not stop me. If I have to injure, maim, or even kill you to carry out these orders, then I will. I'm a bit fond of you in my own way, so killing you would be most upsetting for me. Sincerely, Stephen Marcellus._

I nearly set fire to the thing in my hand. How dare he presume to tell me not to stop him when it came to _my_ master's well-being? And what did he mean by "fond of you in my own way"? What on earth was he getting at? Oh, blazes, was he another _Grell_?

_Calm down,_ I told myself sternly. _You're being silly, and any similarities to Grell aren't that important anyway._ No, what I had to focus on was that this letter meant there was a possible "move" on their part sometime soon.

"Will there be an answer, sir?" Toby asked, seeing me fold up the letter.

"Thank you, no, Toby," I answered. "Thank you for bringing this. Mey-Rin, do you think you could pack up the rest of these cakes and a few other things for Toby to take with him? Few of the places on the road back to London serve decent food."

"Certainly," Mey-Rin said as Toby brightened to incandescence. I bade them both goodbye and headed upstairs to return to my master. Since I had returned, Agni said he would go to see if Soma needed anything and I blessed his good timing. The young master was just making a start on his apple dumplings, and I waited for him to finish them before I handed him the letter. He read it through twice and looked at me.

"What do you think this means?" he asked.

"It means they're going to make some kind of move soon," I told him.

The young master looked at the letter again and read it through. I noticed he was reading more slowly, as if he were thinking. "Any idea of how we're being watched?"

I should have known he'd realize that. "I have only vague ideas. More powerful demons have more resources than I would. There have been no signs of something on the estate that shouldn't be here, aside from your visitor early this morning, but I'm sure I would have sensed something that big if it had been here before. Last night had to have been its first visit. I'd have at least noticed something if it had come before."

He nodded. "I see." He returned the letter and appeared to be thinking very much. "Sebastian, do you think we should wait for them to make their move, or should we try to checkmate them before they make it?"

I thought about the situation. "Such a move could be risky, young master. I don't know how far his powers extend, what he's able to do, or what he plans to do. I can't predict him at all. However, if we try the checkmate, we may gain the advantage of surprising them, but that's no guarantee."

"Hmmm." He stopped and appeared to think. There were times when I wished I could read his mind and this was one of them. What was he thinking and how many anxious moments would it cause me?

"At any rate, Mey-Rin, Finny, and Bard are all on high alert," I said, clearing the remains of his lunch away. "Agni has also pledged his help if it's needed, and of course, Soma and I will do what we can."

He coughed and I gave him a dose of his medicine. His coughs sounded better than they had, and his fever had gone. He was mending, if slowly. "That's fine, Sebastian." I could tell that he was still deep in thought and once more I wished for the ability of mind-reading. What was going through his head?

A knock at the door revealed Prince Soma. "How are you feeling, Ciel?" he asked.

"Better, actually," my master admitted. "Well enough to get up."

"Absolutely not," I protested. "You are still ill, young master."

"I may still be ill, but it's warm out today, isn't it?"

I stared at him. He wanted to go _out_? "Yes, it is, but you're in no condition..."

"Then I'm going out," he said firmly. "Sebastian, I'm tired of waiting for them to make a move. I want to take this game right to checkmate. Do you understand?"

Oh, I understood. I understood all too well that he was going to undo all of everyone's hard work to nurse him back to health and he would cause me no small amount of worry and...I got a good look at his expression and I knew further arguing was worthless. "Yes, my lord."

Soma was staring from him to me and back again. "W-wait a moment! Sebastian, as his butler, it's your duty to put his health first! Surely this is one time when it would be better for him to stay in bed!"

I agreed wholeheartedly. "Yes, Prince Soma, but.."

"But nothing!" he interrupted. "Ciel, you should be ashamed at trying this! You're still sick, so there's no question of you getting up!"

"Don't you start!" my master said irritably. "This person's gunning for me and I'm not going to give him a stationary target! You haven't even heard what I'm planning yet!"

"You're a child and you're sick, and you should trust the adults around you to take care of things for you while you're ill!" Soma countered. Now, why couldn't my master show a bit of Soma's common sense at times? My job would be a great deal easier.

"All I intend to do is go out to the garden," my master told his friend. "I'll be wearing the clothes he sent me, and I don't intend to do anything more strenuous than drink tea. I have a feeling that if they see me out in the open, then they may try to make their move."

"That's a terrible plan," Soma said flatly. "Too many things could go wrong!"

"It's a chance I think we're going to have to take," my master told him. "He knows far too much about us, but we know next to nothing about him. We don't know what he'll do or how he'll do it. We need to know more, and I think that by forcing his hand like this, we'll have a chance to learn more."

The premise was sound, but oh, the reasoning...

"No!" Soma said. "Sebastian, sing him a lullaby or something! Put him back to sleep!"

"Don't you dare!" my master said quickly. He knew that I could send him to sleep with just a few words and a touch on his forehead, so he was quick to forestall that notion. "I know that you don't like this plan, but it's the only one we've got right now."

"That's not a plan," Soma insisted. "That's as far from 'plan' as I've ever heard! Honestly! Just go outside and server yourself up to him on a silver platter? _That's_ your plan?"

"Well, what do you suggest, then?" my master demanded. "Invite him over for tea?"

Soma considered it. "Actually, that might work..."

Oh, yes. We now had incontrovertible proof that Soma had become temporarily insane. "I don't see how that would work," I said quickly.

"But it's perfect!" Soma insisted. "Invite him here. That way, he'll be here on your home territory and under your eye. Would he dare try anything while you're watching him?"

"Having my eye on someone doesn't mean that he'll just give up!" the bocchan snapped. "Come on!"

"But he's less likely to take a big risk while you're watching him, right?"

If they argued much longer, they'd kill each other. "Young master, what if we followed your suggestion, but I and everyone else would be with you?" I suggested.

He stared at me as if I'd lost my mind. "Of course. That's what I intended."

Soma groaned. "Oh, you're driving me nuts! Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I'd thought it was understood!"

I caught the pillow that launched itself in Soma's direction and replaced it on the bed. "Very well, then, young master. If we can't change your mind about this, we will be with you and help you carry out your plan, but if you do not wish to go out in your nightshirt, we should get you dressed."

"I'll tell Agni to prepare some tea," Soma said, resigned to the situation. "I guess we need all the correct props in place."

While Prince Soma attended to that, I helped my master get up, wash, and dress. The suit of clothes he'd been sent fit perfectly and they suited him well. If Lady Elizabeth could see him in that outfit, she'd have shrieked and called it the cutest outfit she'd ever seen.

"I wonder how he knew what would look good," my master said as I helped him into the coat.

"It's likely that he's seen you at some point," I suggested. "Are you sure you feel strong enough for this?"

"Of course. Let's go, Sebastian." He pulled the hat on his head and led the way out to the side terrace. Agni had set up tea there and my master was perfectly happy to sit there in the sun with a lap rug over himself and have his tea with Prince Soma. After tea, I set up a chess board for the two of them and stayed nearby while they played.

"Hey, you've memorized that trick," Soma said as he lost a game. "Very good! Another game!"

My master smiled. "I've nowhere else to be."

Sudden cold swept over me. My defenses around the estate were all going off at once...we were being invaded!

"Sebastian? What is it?"

"What you were hoping for, young master," I said. "Bard, Mey-Rin, Finny! You know what to do!"

I could see them scrambling for their positions and I took up mine beside my master while Agni moved to Soma's side.

"What is it?" Soma asked as leaves began to rustle in the trees.

A sudden foreboding overwhelmed me. "Young master, I think we should go inside immediately. This is not a good place to be!"

I was too late. They swept down on us, howling loudly enough to make me feel as if I were being stabbed in my ears. I groaned and dropped to my knees, my hand pressed over my ears in a futile effort to keep their howls out.

"What is it?" my master cried, getting to his feet. None of my three companions were being effected by the noise, and for a moment, I was surprised, but then I remembered that they were all human. They couldn't hear what I could. I could just barely see them coming toward us, but humans would not see anything until they were right on top of us.

"Gray ones," I gasped, wishing their howling would stop. "Marcellus commands gray ones."

"Gray ones?" Soma said. "What are those?"

My master turned just in time to see one of them approach, and he screamed, backing away from it. "It's back! Get it away!"

I leapt to comply, but a howl from the creature made me drop to the terrace in agony. Gray ones were creatures of no realm, giving allegiance only to those they chose to follow. Since they were neither mortal nor immortal but instead existed beyond any plane, gray ones were one of the few creatures that I could not fight effectively. Their howls were painful to most demons, and their bites were excruciating and one of the few ways we could be poisoned. That thing in front of me could shatter every bone in my body with just a few blows.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I was amused. Marcellus had me cornered on all counts. I managed to get to my feet and interpose myself between the creature and my master, but I knew that I was no match for it. I would most likely lose my life shortly.

_Thwack! Thwack!_

I saw Agni and Prince Soma collapse to the ground just as Marcellus appeared behind them. He stepped past their unconscious forms and approached us.

"I did warn you, Sebastian," he said, reaching the gray one's side. "Now, are you going to be sensible?"

"Are you Marcellus?" my young master demanded.

"An honor to meet you, my lord," he said with a bow. "I am Stephen Marcellus."

"What does your master want with me?"

He smiled. "I'd thought that was obvious. Ah, well, I'll let him explain it to you when we return to him. Maybe then you'll understand."

More gray ones were converging on us from all sides, and my master moved closer to me. Up close, they were terrifying even for a demon, and I understood why he was frightened. Trying to fight this many of them would get me killed within seconds. Marcellus moved through them and reached for my master, but I moved so that I stood between them. Despite the overwhelming odds and the promise of certain death, I could not allow him to take my master.

Marcellus fixed me with steely glare. "Sebastian, I have no wish to hurt you."

"I shall have to disappoint you."

He sighed. "Very well, then."

He snapped his fingers and pain descended on me from every direction, followed shortly by oblivion.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm glad you like it! The first part of this chapter is from Ciel's point of view, and the next part is from Sebastian's.

Ciel's POV:

From a sleep almost as deep as death, I slowly made my way back to life. I knew before I even opened my eyes that I was not at home in my bed and I knew that another demon butler called Stephen Marcellus had come to my home. He commanded the monsters that I had seen before when one of them tried to take me out of the window. I remembered that even Sebastian had seemed afraid of them and that their howls caused him pain. I had been hoping that he would always be able to protect me against anything that came at us, but I had learned differently. I now knew that that he wasn't invulnerable, and I had learned something else: I knew that I was deeply in trouble.

My last conscious memories had been of those gray things attacking Sebastian. They moved too fast for me to see and too fast for him to counter, and I only saw what was going on when they stayed still long enough for me to see it. I had seen them slash at him with their claws, bite him, and more than one of them had struck him across the chest or the back with their paws. With each blow I'd heard odd snaps and pops and it took me an agonizingly long minute to realized that what I'd heard had been his bones breaking.

At last my eyes opened, and the sight of a strange ceiling above me reminded me that I was not at home, I was at the mercy of this Marcellus demon, and Sebastian was most likely dead. I sat up in order to get my bearings, but the sight of myself in a mirror across the room drew my attention. I could see myself, and in my right eye the mark of the contract was still there. What did that mean? Did that mean that he was still alive and our contract was still valid? But how could he be alive after that battle? They had attacked him so fiercely that he hadn't even had a chance to fight back!

I was out of bed in a moment and at the mirror in order to take a closer look. Yes, the mark was still there, and it did not look as if it had faded or changed. I was still under contract with Sebastian. But...

"Good morning, young master," I heard.

For a moment, I thought it was Sebastian and I turned, hopeful that he was all right and that it had all been a dream...No, it was Marcellus.

"Good morning?" I said.

"Yes," he said, pouring me a cup of tea. "It is the next morning. You've been asleep since yesterday afternoon. How are you feeling?"

Amazing that he could be so calm! "Where is Sebastian?" I demanded. "What have you done with him?"

"Ah, Sebastian," he said. "Hmmm. Well, I'm sure I don't know, young master. Perhaps he's playing a game?"

I stared at him. "What are you on about?"

"He might be playing hide-and-seek with you, young master," he teased. "Shall we look for him?" He paused and looked under the bed. "Hmm. Not there. Perhaps in the wardrobe?"

He was starting to frighten me. Why on earth was he playing a game? "Stop being ridiculous! Where is Sebastian?"

Marcellus chuckled. "My apologies, young master. I was only trying to cheer you up. Sebastian is not here."

"Is he alive?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Marcellus said. "He was alive the last time I saw him, so it stands to reason that he's alive now, doesn't it?"

If he didn't give me a direct answer soon, I'd slaughter him, demon or not.

"Let's get you dressed, young master," he said, moving to the wardrobe. "You wouldn't want to spend the day in your nightshirt, and you should be able to be up today, despite your illness. Now, what would you like to wear? Blue? Green?"

This was all wrong. I liked to follow my daily routine since departing from it left me feeling unsettled. My inner senses were telling me that it should be Sebastian serving me tea and helping me dress. "I don't want your help!" I snapped. "I want to go home!"

"But you are already there," he said, sounding somewhat confused.

"What?"

"You are home," he said, taking out a shirt and a blue suit. "Does this meet with your approval, young master?"

"Oh, blast the clothes, Marcellus," I said rudely. "What do you mean I'm home?"

"My master ordered me to bring you home," he explained as he reached for my nightshirt. "Arms up, young master."

He was as efficient as Sebastian but far more ruthless in getting me dressed. Within two minutes my nightshirt was gone and I was dressed.

"Breakfast is downstairs in the dining room," he said, tying the laces on my shoes. "I hope you're hungry."

"No," I growled. "I'm not hungry, this is not home, and I'm not just going to go down to breakfast! I want answers...now!"

"It is not my place to give them to you, young master," he said, bowing. "I'll take you down to the dining room and once you're there the master will answer all your questions."

I glared at him. I contemplated refusing, but what would that gain me? So far I hadn't been hurt and it didn't look as if they meant to confine me beyond a certain point. I might get answers faster if I just played along. "Very well."

He led me from the bedroom into the hallway and down a staircase. The staircase opened out into a grand foyer lit by huge, sunny windows. I glanced past them but then froze, feeling the color leave my face.

"Young master?" Marcellus said, turning to see why I was not following. He saw where I was staring and he smiled. "Oh, don't let them worry you, young master. They're merely guarding the house."

"Guarding the house?" I gasped, staring at the gray creatures outside. "Can they get in here?"

He looked past me to the top of the stairs and feeling a very strong sense of foreboding, I turned and looked.

There were _three_ of them. They were up at the top of the stairs, ready to pounce on us...

I was down the stairs so fast that I overtook Marcellus and I was halfway to the front door before I stopped, remembering that there were _more_ of those things outside...

"They won't harm you, young master," Marcellus said kindly. "Rather, they have orders to protect you. They'll keep you safe from harm."

"Safe from harm?" I choked, remembering the damage they had done to Sebastian.

"Yes," he promised. "This way, please, young master."

He showed me into another large, sunny room. Each room in this house seemed to draw in light and hold it captive with its light colors and golden woods. I wondered how they managed to keep coal dust and soot off the walls and furniture, but then I remembered that the butler was a demon. For him, it would be the easiest of child's play.

"Ah, good morning, Ciel!"

I turned and saw a tall, brown-haired man just rising from the table. He looked pleased to see me as he set aside his newspaper and walked over to me. A second later his arms were around me and I fought to get away. He let me go, smiling tolerantly. "Did you sleep well?"

"All too well," I answered, fighting the urge to back away. "Are you Sir Charles Emmeridge?"

He smiled again. "I am. I must say, it's wonderful to have you here at last, Ciel. Are you hungry?"

"No," I told him. The last thing I wanted to do was eat. "Why did you have me brought here?"

He looked as if the question surprised him. "Why? Oh, I thought you would already know the answer to that, Ciel! I had you brought here because you belong here, of course."

I stared at him. "How do you mean?" I demanded as Marcellus walked past me to the sideboard. He began to fill a plate from the serving dishes and I wondered why he was taking such a liberty like serving himself food in his master's presence...then I remembered he was a demon. He had no interest in human food.

Sir Charles smiled at me. "Let me tell you a story, Ciel," he said, trying to maneuver me over to the table.

"You can tell me here," I said. This was intolerable! Why couldn't he act like an ordinary kidnapper?

A whisper of sound behind me drew my attention and the three beasts from the staircase appeared behind me. Seeing them behind me, sitting down at the table seemed like a very, very good idea. In fact, there was nothing I would have preferred more. "Send them away!" I snapped in my hurry to get away from them.

"They won't hurt you, and they'll make sure that no one else can hurt you,'' Sir Charles said. "Certainly they'll make sure that no strangers can approach you to spirit you away from me again."

I let him help me into a chair before his words registered. "Again? What do you mean?"

He smiled as Marcellus put a plate full of food in front of me. Ah, the plate had been for me. I stared at it and wished it away. I still didn't feel like eating.

"I'm sure that if you asked anyone in London, they would tell you that I've never been married," Sir Charles said while Marcellus poured me a cup of tea. "They would be wrong. I was married, to the most kind and beautiful woman you could imagine. However, I kept my marriage secret since the public would censure my union with her and any resulting children."

"Why?" I asked, having an inkling of the reason.

"She was a poor woman, employed here at my estate as a housemaid. She was a hard worker and her duties tried her, but whenever I saw her she was always patient and kind to others. I found myself falling in love. When I proposed to her, she refused me at first, but then she confessed her feelings and we were married in secret in the chapel on the grounds."

This was beginning to sound like a second-rate novel. Why wouldn't he get to the point?

"We spent a few years here with just a few trusted servants, enjoying one another's company," he continued. "She made this place into what it is now, a home of light and love. Our happiness only increased when she told me that she was expecting a baby. I was overjoyed at the thought of a child and we made ready for its arrival. On a frigid winter night, she gave birth, but she was unable to survive it. At first, I thought the child had lived, but soon I held nothing more than a still little form, a mere mockery of an infant. Suddenly, I had no wife, and I had no child."

"I don't understand," I said, my patience at an end. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I'm getting to that," he told me. "You see, I found it amazing that a child could appear so healthy at birth but then suddenly die. It didn't make sense to me, and it failed to make sense even after I had them both buried in the family cemetery. The more I thought about it, the less sense it made, but then I realized the truth: My real child had been stolen away from me somehow and replaced with a dead infant."

Suddenly, I didn't like where this was going. I really, truly did not like it.

"I despaired of ever finding my child, but then on a trip to London several years ago, I saw him. He was the image of his mother, but he was being raised by two people who weren't his parents. I could have come forward and insisted on my rights to the child, but the fact that my marriage had been a secret and that the husband was a favorite of the queen's were against me. Nearly frantic, I had to wait and find another way to get him back."

I was beginning to feel rather sick. Was he saying what I thought he was?

Sir Charles stopped and stared at me. "Is something wrong, Ciel?"

"Uh..."

"Not hungry?"

I stared down at my plate. I had shirred eggs, bacon, and a large slice of blueberry coffee cake. "Uh..." Oh, what was wrong with me? Why couldn't I get my voice to work properly?

"Try the cake first," Sir Charles suggested. "You like sweet things, don't you?"

He was right, I did, but...In the end, I gave up and took a forkful of cake. It was rich and sweet and just how I preferred it. Had Marcellus somehow stolen Sebastian's recipe?

"I made inquiries, but there was no way I could have my child returned to me. Then I learned that the Phantomhives had died, put to death because it was rumored they had a contract with a demon..."

I wished I hadn't swallowed that mouthful of cake.

"Unfortunately, the child inherited Vincent Phantomhive's responsibilities, and the law would follow only what benefited the Queen, so I began to think of other ways of having my son returned to me. I realized that with a demon's help, I could do anything, so I summoned Stephen..." He turned and looked at me. "He told me that we would have to be very careful so we wouldn't raise the Queen's suspicions, so these past few years we've been laying the groundwork of our plan. Even now, your 'remains' are being examined by a doctor and he will say that you've died due to a wild animal attack. Your servants and friends think the same, so they will not come here looking for you, and no one will ever take my son from me again...Ciel!"

I had leapt from my chair and run for the door. All I could think of was to get away from this madman and his fantasies. I couldn't stay here where they had horror-dogs guarding the house of a lunatic and a demon butler who would follow his every order, no matter how insane! That was all that was in my mind as I ran for the front door, but Marcellus appeared in front me. I whirled, looking for another exit, filling my lungs with air in order to shout... "Se..."

A hand over my mouth and an arm around my body stopped me. "Do not call for him, young master," he said, holding me tightly. "He cannot come to you, and if you called him he would be in considerable pain trying to obey."

I fought to get his hands away from me, but his words made me freeze when I realized what they meant. "He's alive, then?"

"Injured, but alive," he said. "It will take him some time to recuperate, but eventually, he'll be well again."

Relief flooded through me. Sebastian was alive.

"Now, your father is worried at your behavior," he said, lifting me in his arms.

I fought to get down. "He's not my father!"

"He believes he is, young master, and he's ordered me to bring you back to him, so that is what I must do," he said. "You're still ill and weak and he wishes to take care of you the way a father would care for his child. Why not let him do just that until you are well?"

"I won't! It would be like lying to him! He needs a doctor, not someone to play into his fantasies!"

"His fantasies are all he has, and they make him happy," Marcellus told me. "Besides, he's ordered me to bring you here and to help him care for his child. I will do what I must in order to ensure that his orders are carried out, but I hope that I won't have to. Do you understand, young master?"

I stared at him, aghast. "You...are you threatening me?"

"It is not a threat, but a promise," Marcellus said, his tone light. "I will do what I must to make sure that the master is able to keep his little boy." His hand ghosted over my forehead and I felt my eyes close. I wasn't quite asleep, but I was close.

"He's exhausted himself with all this worry, master," I heard him say to Sir Charles. "I think he'll be all right with a little more rest. Remember, he has been ill. I shall put him back to bed and you'll both be able to talk once he wakes."

"Thank you, Stephen. I'll come along with you and see him settled."

As Marcellus carried me upstairs, I wondered if Sebastian were feeling as panicked as I was.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

Panic is never an easy emotion for a demon to bear. We are used to being in control. When things are out of our control, then we panic.

I awoke panicking. Every breath I took was a breath of panic and every heartbeat I had was due to panic.

I was also afraid. I didn't know why and I couldn't remember what had frightened me, but I felt fear.

I was in a dark room, lying on something soft. Every part of my body was in considerable pain and I had no idea how that had happened. I moved and felt the awful sensation of the broken ends of my bones grinding against one another. A second later a gasp of pain escaped my lips as the broken bones made themselves felt. After that came the deep, aching sensation of bruises covering my body and the burning feeling of poisoned bites.

It was the feeling of the bites that triggered my memories. Gray ones. I had been attacked by gray ones. They had been commanded by...Marcellus. Stephen Marcellus. He was the butler to someone else and they had been targeting my master, Ciel Phantomhive.

"Bocchan..." I choked, my throat dry and on fire. Oh, blazes, was he all right? If he was hurt...

Lights appeared, and I turned my head. On the table were several lit candles, and beyond them was...I froze. Had Marcellus left that thing here to finish me off once I regained consciousness?

The gray one looked at me and approached. I cringed away from it, but the pain I was in kept me from moving very far. It lowered its face to mine and sniffed, sampling my scent. It whined and shuffled off to curl up in the corner, its glowing eyes fixed on me. I fought to sit up so I could at least try to fight should the thing take it into its head to attack, but I had to give up and collapsed back into the embrace of the bed that held me. I was in no condition to fight and if I made a move that thing didn't like, it would most likely kill me.

Footsteps outside the room drew my attention. A door opened and Marcellus stood there with a tray balanced on one hand. "Sebastian? Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

I stared at him. "Why am I alive?"

"I told you I had no wish to kill you. Why, would you prefer I had?"

I hoped he was joking. "Where is my young master?"

"He is upstairs, asleep."

I couldn't believe it. Just upstairs? "Where are we?"

"My master's home," he explained, putting the tray down on the same table that held the candles. "How do you feel?"

"Terrible," I said honestly. "I'd forgotten how much pain could hurt."

He chuckled. "Yes, you do tend to forget over the years, don't you? Thirsty?"

Why on earth was he being so kind to me? I couldn't fathom it.

Marcellus sat down on the bed and grasped my shoulders, lifting me until I was sitting up and leaning against him. In his hand he held a cup. "Here. Drink this."

I stared at the cup's contents and nearly laughed. He was giving me milk? Milk was one of the few human foods we could digest, but I failed to grasp why he was giving it to me.

"I've put a few things in it that will help with the pain," he said, sensing my reluctance to drink it. "Oleander and aconite."

I let him put the cup to my lips and I sipped at it. While oleander and aconite would poison a human, demons used the same plants for pain relief when they were injured. Their bitter tastes were there in the milk, and as soon as it slipped down my throat I could feel the pain begin to recede. Ah, we demons rarely appreciated the absence of pain...

"Very good," he said as I drained the cup. He set the empty cup aside on the table and pulled off his gloves before rolling up his left sleeve. "Now to feed you."

That did not make sense. "What?"

I saw his shadow shift, revealing his true form. His right hand suddenly shifted, his fingers elongating and his nails becoming talons. One of these he drew across his arm, gashing his wrist open. "Here. Drink."

I pulled my face away from his wrist even as he pressed it closer. "No!" I'd heard of demons doing such a thing for others, but it was a very intimate act for both demons. Usually it was reserved for lovers, although occasionally I'd heard of other cases. "What are you doing?"

"Feeding you so you'll have the strength to heal," he said. "I told you that I did not intend to kill you, Sebastian, but I did have to incapacitate you for a while. If you don't drink, it will take you years to recover. This will shorten your recovery time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but I'm not about to do that," I said, staring at his bleeding wrist.

"I don't think you have a choice right now," he said, chuckling. "I could easily force it down your throat and you know this, but you're still so set on refusing."

I was sick of him finding me so amusing. I kept my head turned away and hoped that...well, what could I hope for? That he would suddenly change his mind? That I would suddenly find the strength to fight my way free of his hold? I couldn't even sit up on my own!

"You willful child," he said, moving his wrist closer.

I stared at him. "Child? Just because you're a few thousand years older than I am..."

I shouldn't have spoken. Faster than even I could see, he had his arm pressed up against my open mouth and the blood flowed over my tongue. The taste filled my senses and against my will, I swallowed. Salty-sweet, the faintest hint of bitterness, and deliciously warm. I swallowed again and he made no move to take his arm away. On the contrary, he pressed it closer so not a drop would be spilled or wasted. I heard someone groan and it took me several minutes to realize that I had been the one to do so. I couldn't help it; what I was tasting was too good to be quiet about...I swallowed mouthful after mouthful, and only when I was sated did he take his arm away. In a sleepy, well-fed haze I watched him lick his wound clean until it closed.

"Very good, Sebastian," he said, still supporting me against his chest. "You'll heal faster this way."

"Hmmm," I murmured. Coherent speech was beyond me at the moment.

Fortunately, it wasn't required of me. He laid me back on the pillows and removed the blankets from the bed, leaving me only long enough to return with a steaming bowl of water. In it I could smell mandrake root and deadly nightshade, which were topical anti-infectives for demons. Using a cloth dampened in the solution, he began to wash each bite I'd received. Slowly, the burning pain in the bites, slightly deadened already by the oleander and aconite, faded until it was negligible. My broken bones were merely throbbing aches rather than the red-hot torture of formerly, and with the pain in my bites eased, I could feel myself falling asleep.

"Yes, that's what you need," I heard Marcellus say as he pulled the blankets over me. "Go to sleep. Sleep and dream, little one. Sleep and dream."

Unable to resist Morpheus' pull, I surrendered. For a long time, I lay in peace and silence, cradled in warmth and darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ciel's POV:

Marcellus carried me upstairs and back to the bedroom that I'd woken up in. Sir Charles was right behind him, and once Marcellus laid me on the bed, Sir Charles was the one to undress me, put me in a nightshirt, and tuck me in. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was tired again. It was taking a long time for me to shake off this illness and I wished it was gone. I was more than happy to feel soft pillows underneath me and warm blankets over me.

"Do you intend to stay with him while he sleeps, sir?" I heard Marcellus say.

"Yes," Sir Charles said. "I feel as if I don't want to lose sight of him, as if he'll disappear if I look away."

"Understandable," Marcellus agreed. "Well, sir, with your permission, I shall return to my other duties. I hope that the young master rests well, and if either of you need anything, just ring."

"Of course, Stephen. Thank you."

"My pleasure, sir."

At that moment, I hated that demon beyond words. He sounded so smug and unbearably smarmy that I wished…well, what would irritate a demon? _Really_ irritate them? If I ever saw Sebastian again, I would have to ask.

In the next moment, I was appalled at myself. Why was I thinking _if I ever saw Sebastian again_? Of course I would see him again! I refused to believe that _this_ was the rest of my life, being taken care of by a madman and pretending to be that madman's son! No, I would not be here long. I would figure out a way to get away from the two of them and I would return home. It was likely that Soma and Agni had found Sebastian when they woke up and they were taking care of him. He would heal quickly and come to find me. It was more than likely that they were enjoying taking care of him; they'd certainly enjoyed taking care of me during my last asthma attack! No, Sebastian would be in good, if ever-vigilant and annoying, hands.

I did not fall asleep. Instead, I was lying there with my eyes closed, unable to open them, speak, or move beyond shifting my position an inch or so, the same way a sleeping person might. I had a feeling that this was a subtle punishment from Marcellus for my behavior. What was more boring than just lying somewhere, unable to open your eyes, look around, or read? When I'd been smaller, my parents would make me sit apart from them for a while when I misbehaved. Since being banished from their company was the worst fate imaginable for me, I was always ready to apologize after a few minutes and rejoin them. That and hearing that I'd disappointed them in some manner were the most effective ways they had of disciplining me. I never heard them raise their voices to me and they never struck me to punish me. They only had to withhold their attention from me and to regain it I would behave. It seemed Marcellus was taking the track of boring me to death rather than withholding attention.

His withholding attention wouldn't have worked anyway, because Sir Charles was showering me with it. Periodically I felt him smooth my hair, tuck the covers around me more securely, pat my shoulder or head, and hold my hand. I found his fawning disgusting and I wished that I could tell him so, but whatever Marcellus had done to me kept me prone and silent, appearing asleep to all the world. Sebastian could send me to sleep with a touch on my forehead, but it seemed Marcellus had a different approach. What he hoped to accomplish with it was beyond me. Punishment? Annoyance? If so, then it was working!

I felt a hand smooth over my face and a kiss on my forehead. I wished I could cringe away, but all I could do was sigh.

"You'll never know how happy your papa is to have you back again," I heard Sir Charles say. "To have you here with me is a joy I never thought to have, Ciel."

Oh, how I wished I wasn't hearing this. Why couldn't Marcellus have let me sleep through this?

"We're going to have such fun times together," he continued. "We'll talk and play games together, Marcellus and I will be your teachers, and you'll finish growing up here at Blackwell. I've already bought you a horse, and we'll ride every day the weather's fine. When you're older, I'll send you to Oxford to complete your education, and then you'll marry and have a child. When that child is five years old, I'll fulfill my end of my contract with Stephen and you'll inherit Blackwell and all of the business. Oh, you're going to have a wonderful life, Ciel."

I heard something very odd-it sounded like something between a dog's whine and a cat's yowl. Sir Charles heard it as well and stiffened. I felt his hand grip my shoulder and he patted me once again.

"Don't worry, Ciel. I have to go see to that, but don't worry, you're safe. As long as you're here, you're safe. Rest well, and I'll be back soon."

I hoped he would take his time. In fact, I hoped that whatever that noise portended, it would take hours to resolve. I heard him leave and as soon as the door closed behind him I began to fight my way awake. I fought to move and open my eyes, but once again, I found it as impossible as it had been before. I heard the door open again and I waited. Was it Sir Charles or Marcellus?

"I hope you were listening to what the master was saying."

Marcellus. Of course.

"He cares for you a great deal," Marcellus continued. "He's ready to be a father to you, so I hope you'll do the sensible thing and let him. Otherwise, life can become rather uncomfortable for you, young master."

How dare he threaten me! When I managed to get up...

"You know what's expected of you now, and so it is time for you to truly sleep, young master," he said, and I felt his fingertips press against my forehead again. This time I could feel myself spiral downward into true sleep and I was more than glad to go.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

When I woke the sun was streaming into my room. Marcellus and Sir Charles were gone, but I doubted they were far away. I doubted they would leave me alone long enough for me to implement an escape plan. No, I was sure I would be watched, but what form that watching would take would be up to debate...I froze. No debate was needed. I'd been about to get out of bed, but the sight of one of those gray creatures lying on the floor beside my bed was enough to convince me that I had no reason to leave that bed ever again. It looked up at me and for a moment my frenzied brain had me believing that the thing seemed bored.

Surely not.

Once again, I heard the whine/yowl I'd heard before and I realized that the creature was responsible for it. I kept my eyes on it and wondered if it was even remotely possible for me to make it to the door before it sank its teeth into me. I looked around and at the head of the bed I saw one of the most beautiful sights in the world: a bellpull. I grasped it the way a drowning man would a rope and tugged it so much that at last it broke, but I was reassured when I heard the echo of a bell somewhere in the house. Marcellus would hear that signal and hopefully come and remove the horror-dog.

I was beginning to understand why Sebastian preferred cats. They were much better than this creature, much gentler, and much _smaller_.

Marcellus was there within a minute. "Yes, young master?"

"Get that thing away from me!" I shouted, standing up on the bed and pointing at the dog-gone-wrong.

"Oh, he's just a puppy!" Marcellus said lightly. "He wouldn't hurt you."

"That's not a puppy, you fool; that's a ferocious beast! Get it away from me!" By this point I could feel hysteria descending. If Marcellus didn't get rid of that thing quickly, I might do something desperate.

I might start calling for Sir Charles.

"Very well," Marcellus said, perhaps sensing that I was approaching a breaking point. He addressed the beast. "You've done well, but it's time for you to go down to the kitchen."

I'd thought that Marcellus would have to wrestle the thing out of the room, but obediently it rose and went out. I stared, not certain that I could believe what I was seeing.

"He wouldn't have hurt you," Marcellus said as soon as the thing was gone. "I asked him to wait up here and let me know when you woke. Are you feeling better?"

The hysteria hit. How could he be so damned _calm_ in the middle of this nightmare? "No!" I shouted. "I want to go home!" I could feel myself shaking and my eyes burned. I doubted I ever cried when I was awake, but I felt perilously close to it now. No, I refused to allow an enemy to see me cry. I would not cry. I would _not._

_"Get out_," I snarled. "_Now!_"

He blinked. "Yes, young master."

I was still shaking as I relished my victory, transitory though it might be. Marcellus left and closed the door, leaving me alone. In a flash I jumped from the middle of the bed and ran to the wardrobe, determined to dress and get out of there. I refused to stay in that house a moment longer. I managed stockings, pants, shoes, and was starting to pull on the shirt when there was a knock at my door.

"Ciel?"

Blast. It was Sir Charles. I began to fight with the buttons and started hoping that I could...

"Ciel? Ciel, open the door, please."

"Why?" I asked, hoping to stall him.

"I would like to talk with you. May I come in?"

"Just a minute!" I called. I stopped fussing with the buttons and pulled on the coat. To hell with the door, could I go out the window? I ran to it and tugged at the handle, hoping and praying that it would open...Yes! It swung open and I leaned over the sill, looking for a way down...

I heard the door open behind me and fought back a curse. _Why_ couldn't he have _waited_?

"Ciel!" Sir Charles gasped, running to me and pulling me back from the window. "What on _earth_ are you doing?"

"I needed some air," I said. In a sense, that statement was very true. I desperately needed some air that was away from him and the horror-house of Blackwell.

"Oh, honestly," he said, looking me over. "Was it necessary to lean so far out and give me a heart attack?"

"I guess I got carried away," I said lightly. I had to avoid rousing his suspicion. If he became suspicious then I could bid any chance of slipping away a fond and regretful farewell.

"I see," he said, slipping off my coat. "I understand your wanting a little air, but use a little sense, Ciel." He refastened the buttons on that wretched shirt, straightened my stockings, retied my shoes, and helped me pull on the coat again. "Since you want some air, would you like to have lunch outside? It's warm out, and a little time spent in the fresh air should help you feel better."

Outside...ohhhh, no. No, no no. "What about those gray things?" I wanted to know. "Are they out there?"

"They're guarding the estate," Sir Charles said.

"No, I think I'll stay inside," I said quickly. Yes, inside seemed like a good place to be.

"Nonsense," Sir Charles said. "Every person recovering from an illness needs a good amount of fresh air."

"We can leave the window open," I suggested.

"But that's no substitute for being out in the sunshine," he told me.

"I don't want to!" This was becoming unbearable.

"Why not?"

It was a reasonable question. Unfortunately, I didn't feel very reasonable. I felt like pitching a fit, which wouldn't be very helpful. In fact, it might make things worse.

He knelt down so that he looked me in the eye. "Ciel, do the gray ones frighten you?"

I didn't have to answer. He saw me shudder and he nodded.

"I suppose they can be frightening if you're not used to them," he said. "Ciel, they never attack anyone unless they're ordered to, and neither I nor Marcellus would ever order them to attack you. Marcellus follows my orders, and they follow his. Now, do you understand?"

I understood, but I wasn't about to go outside.

"They can actually be quite a lot of fun," Sir Charles said coaxingly. "If you're willing to throw something for them, they'll play fetch with you as long as you like."

Horrific dogs that played fetch. Oh, it was too much. At any moment I was sure that I would see a white rabbit with a pocket watch and waist coat. Any experience I had following that rabbit would be far preferable to the situation I found myself in now.

A gong sounded outside.

"That's our signal for lunch," Sir Charles informed me. "Come along, and you'll see what I mean."

Before I could protest or duck away from him, he scooped me up and carried me from the room. I fought to get down. "Put me down!"

"I'll put you down in a minute," he told me.

"Put me down now!" I demanded. I deplored the fact that I was still so small and thin-why couldn't I have grown some in the past few years? It would have been much harder for people to cart me around like this!

"Patience, Ciel," Sir Charles said, heading down the stairs. "Almost there."

It didn't matter that I didn't want to go out. I was going out whether I liked it or not. Sir Charles carried me out onto a sun-drenched terrace and set me down in the shade of a large umbrella that towered over the table. It looked as if Marcellus had produced a feast.

"Welcome, master, and welcome, young master. Lunch is prepared."

"It looks wonderful, Marcellus," Sir Charles said, pulling out a chair for me.

Marcellus bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment. "For lunch today, we have pork tenderloin with American wild rice and French beans, and for dessert we have a peach trifle. I hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure we will."

By this point several of the gray ones had wandered over to our table. Either they smelled the pork tenderloin or they thought I was a chew toy just waiting for their teeth, but I didn't want to chance them getting any closer. Taking a great leap of faith, I grabbed a piece of bread from the bread basket in front of me and hurled it with all my might. "FETCH!"

As one, they ran after the bread and I breathed a sigh of relief. With any luck, they wouldn't find it and they would stay away for a while looking for it. Maybe one of them would eat it and choose not to enlighten the others.

"Oh, dear," Marcellus said, moving around the table and holding up his hands as if to ward them off. "Now, that's enough for right now. He'll play with you after he's finished eating his lunch!"

"I'll _what_?" I gasped, staring at Marcellus.

"With all due respect, sir, you started it," Marcellus said calmly.

Sir Charles grabbed my hand in time to keep me from throwing another slice of bread, this time aimed for the back of Marcellus' head. If I'd had something more lethal than bread, I would have thrown that first.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

I had not spent this much time sleeping since I was an infant. Indeed, I couldn't even be sure of that since I couldn't remember being an infant and neither of my parents were around to ask. The fact remained that I slept a good deal of the time. It was constant sleeping, what one could almost call marathon sleeping. If a sports council decided to award a trophy for sleeping, I would have won hands-down. My environment didn't help. Aside from the pale light of a few candles, the room was dark, just warm enough for me to be comfortable, very quiet, and the bed was exquisite. It was a room calculated to provide the utmost comfort possible to a healing demon.

The few times I woke, Marcellus was there with more medicated milk and of course, to feed me. I protested each time, and as I grew in strength I even managed to push his arm away more than once, but he had the greater strength and insisted upon it. To me, it did not feel right that he was feeding me in such a manner. It was much too personal and intimate an action for me to be comfortable with it, but I had little choice. His strength had been greater than mine even when I had been at my peak. I had no hope of fighting him now.

Gradually, my waking periods began to last longer and I felt more rested after sleeping. The pain that Marcellus kept at bay with the aconite and oleander milk and the daily washing with mandrake and nightshade water slowly receded until I had entire hours where I did not feel pain. I could feel my bones straightening themselves and knitting themselves back together, and my bruised and battered body was healing.

My interactions with Marcellus usually had a pattern. He would arrive, greet me, give me the milk, feed me, tend to my bites and bruises, and then he would make sure I was comfortable before settling down in a chair to talk. What did we talk about? A great deal. Our first conversation centered around the fact that I was still alive and couldn't understand why he hadn't killed me. I refused to believe that his restraint had only been due to his sense of aesthetics.

"You told me in your letter that you wouldn't hesitate to kill me if I got in your way, yet here I sit," I pointed out to him. "What changed your mind?"

"You're laboring under a false assumption, Sebastian," he said. "In my letter I stated that I would kill you only if I had to. By having the gray ones injure you, I removed you as a threat, thereby ensuring that I wouldn't have to kill you."

Once again, I was confused. "But why bother?"

"I have my reasons, ones that I do not wish to disclose at this time." I hadn't known him long, but I recognized his tone. It was the tone people used when they weren't going to talk about something. Ah, well...

We discussed other things, too. I asked him why there was always a gray one crouched in the corner of my room, and he told me that it was there to watch over me while he, Marcellus, was busy elsewhere.

"You seem to attach far too much ability to me, to think that I'm going to get up to something while you're gone," I said.

"He's not there to alert me if you're up to no good, but to let me know if you're all right," he answered. "Don't humans hire nurses to watch after their ill and injured?"

I glanced at the gray one. Anything less nurse-like could never be imagined.

Our most constant topic of conversation was the young master. I demanded to know how he was, what was happening to him, what he was doing...I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was frantic with worry over him. (My one comfort in all of this mess was that I knew Agni and Soma were most likely fine. I was sure I couldn't take worrying about them on top of worrying about everything else.)

"The young master is a difficult child," Marcellus remarked when I asked him what was happening upstairs. "He argues over every little thing."

I remembered Agni's remark about how children felt arguing gave them some power in an adult world. "Yes, he does that," I admitted. "Then again, he doesn't like to feel as if he's being given an order. He likes to give the orders, not have orders given to him."

"I think I'm slowly becoming aware of that," he confessed. "How on earth do you get him to cooperate?"

I debated on whether or not I should tell him. Would that be a form of betraying my master if I told his enemies how to get him to cooperate with them?

"Sir Charles and I have tried almost everything we can think of," he sighed. "Time spent alone in his room, no dessert, he has to stay indoors on a fine day, not being allowed to ride...I'm at my wit's end with him."

That was a state of mind I'd often had. While taking away his dessert was something that might be an effective punishment, in reality, it was counterproductive since it only put him in a more combative mood. "Those won't work," I said. "He probably prefers the time alone, missing his dessert only makes him more determined to fight, staying indoors doesn't bother him, and he only rides because it's expected of a nobleman, not because he enjoys it."

"So we're going about it all wrong?"

I had to smile. "In the worst way."

"All right, what is that you do that's so effective?"

I tilted my head to the side. "I don't know if I can tell you without betraying my master in some measure," I told him. "I mean, wouldn't that be aiding an enemy in a way?"

"What could I do that would make you tell me?" he asked. "It must be very boring down here when I'm not here to chat with. What would you like to relieve the boredom?"

Oh, so tempting. A cat would have been lovely, for starters, but I was afraid Gruesome (as I thought of my gray guard) would frighten it. No, a cat, while alluring, was not the right choice. Books would have been just as good, but...no. No, I didn't want to make Marcellus' work too easy for him. If I did and my master heard about it, he would be furious. I would have to stay quiet for as long as I could on the many ways I got my master to cooperate with me. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can. I'm under contract, as I'm sure you're aware."

Marcellus smiled. "Well, I thought I'd try," he said. "If you find you can tell me later, then please do. I'll look forward to hearing it."

I smiled. I was sure he would.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you guys like this! This chapter is entirely from Ciel's POV.

I waited to wake up from the nightmare.

It didn't happen, unfortunately. Days passed and the nightmare remained. I waited for Blackwell Manor to fade away, for Sir Charles, Marcellus, and the horror-hounds to dissipate into mist, but they remained. Nothing I did to wake myself up was effective, and slowly, I had to accept that no, I wasn't just going to wake up from this nightmarish situation, and yes, I might have to play along.

Fortunately, my days had a pattern, and patterns always reassured me. Marcellus would wake me with tea, just like Sebastian did, and then he would help me dress. By the second day I was pulling on my own clothes and learning how to fasten them. I did not like having Marcellus dress me, so I was willing to do that little bit on my own. Once I was dressed, Marcellus escorted me downstairs to the breakfast table, where Sir Charles would greet me and we would have breakfast. After breakfast, Sir Charles saw to the daily work his business required while Marcellus took me back to my room. On the second day I learned that I had two rooms—a door in the bedroom wall opened to the next room, which had been set up as a nursery for me.

I protested, of course. "I am far too old for a nursery!" I complained.

"Sir Charles thought that you might want a room to play in," Marcellus explained, opening the door to show me the room. "For rainy days, he said."

I scowled and fought down an urge to maim him. "I don't play."

Marcellus blinked. "Oh, I'm sure you do, young master. Weren't there toys in your manor?"

I wasn't going to ask how he knew that. "My family's business is toys," I reminded him. "Those are the samples sent to me for review."

"But you still play with them, don't you?"

"I have to be sure they work," I answered. "I don't play."

Marcellus nodded. "Well, if you don't wish to play with them, I won't force you. At the very least, however, would you give me your professional opinion of them? Sir Charles told me to purchase the usual toys for a child your age, but he didn't tell me what they were, so I guessed. Did I guess correctly?"

"A store clerk could have helped with that," I commented. "Didn't you ask?"

"I wasn't aware they could do that," he confessed.

He was hopeless. "How long have you been playing human?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but then he paused. "I often lose track of time, young master. I don't know."

He really _was_ hopeless. "All right, if you really want my opinion, I'll give it to you, but remember that you asked for it."

I was expecting a lot of gaudy trash, but instead I found high-quality items that would appeal to children rather than repel them. There were shelves covering the walls and on the shelves I saw enough toys to open a modest shop. There were several jigsaw puzzles, three different building sets, stuffed animals, a large set of toy soldiers complete with cavalry and infantry, a Noah's ark with paired animals, a toy menagerie, playing cards featuring kings and queens of England, a toy theatre with puppets, several clockwork toys, a chess and draughts set, several board games (there were three of my favorites with them), and a toy train with plenty of track and other items to put around it. Aside from all that, there was a shelf full of books, all of them geared toward someone in his early teens. In the far corner I saw a magic lantern, along with two cases holding a zoetrope and stereoscope, respectively. I recognized the stereoscope as identical to the one that had been sent to me. Next to the magic lantern stand was a phonograph and two stacks of records. A stand in the corner held art supplies. For outside amusement, there were kites, a cricket set, a croquet set, items for playing badminton and lawn tennis, a lawn bowling set, and an archery set. Any child trapped here would not lack for amusement. I, however, would be bored stiff.

"What do you think?" Marcellus asked after I looked around the room and examined a few things.

"You did very well," I admitted. "Your guesses were quite accurate."

He bowed. "I am glad, young master."

That day I didn't play with anything, but by the next day I was so bored during Sir Charles' work time that I worked on one of the jigsaw puzzles, and the day after that I played a game of solitaire, and the day after that…well, I could at least amuse myself. The phonograph was a godsend since music was always good to have. Most times I spent in my room I played records since music often made the time go faster.

By ten o'clock, Sir Charles finished his work for the morning and he declared it was time for my lessons. I had been kidnapped and was being kept prisoner by this man, and when he first mentioned lessons I refused. I wasn't about to be subjected to the tedium of schoolroom lessons while a prisoner, but the two of them insisted I accompany them to the library so I could see the materials they had ready for me.

"I don't see the point," I protested as they escorted me to the library. "I'm not about to suffer through any lessons!"

"I always enjoyed my lessons when I was a boy, Ciel," Sir Charles told me, which did nothing to ameliorate my poor opinion of his sanity. On the contrary, that statement only confirmed it.

The library was just as I expected it: full of books. On a table were the things I assumed to be for my use: the latest textbooks (I was pleased to note that they were for older students), writing paper, pens, ink, pencils, a globe, an abacus, a microscope, sketch paper and charcoal, and a violin. It seemed they were planning every lesson to take place in the one room.

"What shall we start with first?" Sir Charles asked as I stared at everything.

"I don't intend to start," I answered. "I don't want to waste my time."

"What else do you have to do, young master?" Marcellus asked.

_Finding a way out of here, finding out what annoys you, keeping myself sane..._ I didn't say anything, but my list of things to do started with those items.

"If you have to think that much, then you have an abundant supply of free time, some of which can be devoted to your education," Sir Charles said firmly. "Why don't you choose a subject to start with and we'll go from there?"

"No," I refused. "You may be able to keep me here, but you can't force me to do anything."

Sir Charles was surprised at being refused outright, but Marcellus stepped in. "Young master, I'm sure you'll come to enjoy your lessons, but you must start on them first in order to enjoy them." The tone of his voice matched the tone he'd used when he'd told me that my life could become very uncomfortable.

I knew that I didn't dare put him to the test. He was under Sir Charles' orders, not mine, and unless he was expressly forbidden to do...certain things, then he just might do them on his own to make me comply with Sir Charles' wishes. If Sebastian tried to make me do something I didn't want to do, then I could order him to drop the subject, but I couldn't do that with Marcellus. "Oh, very well!" I snapped. "Just don't expect me to show any enthusiasm."

I was to find out shortly that Sir Charles was a born teacher and he could make even the most tedious of lessons interesting. We worked our way through history, grammar, writing, and literature in the morning, stopped for lunch, and in the afternoon we worked on mathematics, science, Latin, art, and music. I thanked any powers that were for the fact that I was already fluent in French, because that spared me from having to study a modern language. I was positive that I couldn't take sitting at a table reading through a French textbook that read, le fils, the son, la fille, the daughter, and so on. Whoever wrote school textbooks should be forced to read them every night for the rest of their lives for inflicting such torture upon students.

Once lessons were over, Sir Charles insisted on my going out into the garden for some sun and fresh air. As always, the gray ones were romping about out there and I spent a great deal of time looking for sticks to throw so they wouldn't bother me. I still didn't like them and I wished that Sir Charles would order Marcellus to send them away, but he didn't. I think that he secretly he liked having them around because whenever one of them showed up, I'd head for Sir Charles' side. I couldn't stand being near the gray ones and if they decided to bite someone, I wanted it to be Sir Charles instead of me. On my fourth day at Blackwell, Sir Charles showed me the horse he'd bought for me. It was a bay gelding with good lines, nothing really remarkable, but he insisted that we go riding before tea. Once again, after a short argument, Marcellus stepped in to make sure I complied.

I really, truly hated that demon. Eternal damnation was too good for him!

After tea, I was once again left to my own devices while Sir Charles answered letters that had come in the afternoon post. Usually by this point I was ready to be on my own, and usually more than ready for a chance to lie down for a while. Marcellus said that my bronchitis was largely gone, but I would still be tired from the hard work of recuperating. Sometimes during my resting periods I would nap, other times I would read. Most often, though, I would try to sneak out of my room in order to explore the house. Each time I opened my door, though, a gray one would be there, standing guard. Seeing that waiting outside, I always chose to stay in my room. It seemed safer that way.

Dinner usually came after my rest. After dinner, Sir Charles would have me sit with him in the parlor, and he would talk with me or bring out a game we could play together. Sometimes, he told me stories about his wife and how happy they were together. Once he even showed me a picture of her, and I had to admit that she and I did look a lot alike. It would be easy for someone suffering from delusions to believe that she and I were related if they had that kind of proof. Around nine o'clock Marcellus would take me upstairs to help me get ready for bed, and by nine thirty Sir Charles would come up to say good night. Most often, he would read to me until I fell asleep. The next morning, the whole process would start all over again.

I lost track of the days. There was little to distinguish one day from another there, and I soon lost count of how long I'd been there. All I saw was the house, the grounds outside, Marcellus, Sir Charles, and the gray ones. There were no calendars in the house, and whenever I tried to sit down and mark out the days, I would run into the fact that I had no idea just how long I'd been there. Every day was like the one before it.

I began to wake up during the night, gasping. It was not my asthma, but it was anxiety. I knew the difference. In my first few months after the deaths of my tormenters, I would wake up at night the same way, frightened out of my mind and convinced that I was still in the cage they'd kept me in. It always took a few minutes for me to regain my senses then, but now when I woke up, I knew where I was. I knew what was going on, but that didn't make me feel better.

I wondered what was taking Sebastian so long to come and find me. He had been injured, yes, but didn't demons heal quickly?

The question stayed on my mind as I let Marcellus and Sir Charles steer me through the routine they'd set up for me. One afternoon, my mind was so filled with it that I wasn't tired when it came time for my rest. I didn't want to read or fuss with anything in the so-called nursery, and I wasn't in need of a nap. What I wanted to do was explore the house, but the gray ones...Hmm. I opened my door and as usual, one of the beasts was sitting there. He sat up and looked at me, for a second I thought that if he'd been a real dog, his tail would have wagged.

"I don't care if Marcellus put you there to make sure I stayed in my room," I told it. "I want to look around the house."

It tilted its head to the side and looked at me. I took a cautious step into the hall and all it did was stare at me. Another step and it still stared.

"Good boy," I said, hoping that I wouldn't provoke it into attacking me.

I got the shock of my life when the thing approached me and butted its head under my hand, asking to be petted. I couldn't believe it. The thing really _was_ just like a dog! It stretched the bounds of credulity, but there it was. I headed off down the hall and the thing trotted along behind me, seemingly content to follow me. I could remember my own dog following me around like that when I was little, and I told myself to just think it was a big dog and I would be fine.

I wandered the halls and looked into rooms and closets, not knowing why. I was restless and I wanted to feel as if I was doing _something_, even if it was pointless. I wandered the upstairs, the attics, wandered the main floor, and then descended to the lower levels. I found the kitchen, where Marcellus was busy preparing supper. He stared at me when I opened the door and entered the kitchen.

"Why, hello, young master," he said, setting aside what he was mixing and wiping his hands on his apron. "What are you doing down here? Usually you're up in your room resting." He looked at the gray one following me as if he wished to ask it what it thought it was doing, letting me out of my room and following me around the house.

"I wanted to explore the house," I told him. "I left my room and he's been following me the whole time."

"Ah," he said. "Well, have your explorations proved amusing?"

"Not really," I said, looking at the cake on the table. "It's just a house, after all. Is that for tonight's dessert?"

"Yes, it is. It's a white Savoy cake," he said as I moved closer to examine it. It was a gorgeous cake covered in white icing and crowned with strawberries. I was just about to put out a hand to get a taste of icing when he picked it up and moved it to a high shelf. "This is for _after_ dinner, young master."

"Tch, you're as bad as Sebastian."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said evenly with a little smile.

I'd only wanted a taste! Was that so bad? "Hmph. All right, then. I'll see you at dinner."

"Back to exploring?"

"What else is there to do?" I muttered as I left.

I didn't hear Marcellus say anything as I left and I welcomed his silence. There were times when I suspected him of reading my mind, and the further away from him I was, the better I felt. I wandered down the hall and was about to turn back when I saw a set of narrow stairs leading down. Figuring I might as well, I headed down, my gray shadow right behind me. At the bottom of the stairs were the cellars, most likely root and wine cellars and storage rooms. I opened a few doors and looked in, but I couldn't see much with only the lights in the hallways. I was on the verge of turning around and going back upstairs when I saw light shining from the bottom crack of a door. Curious, I headed toward it and opened it.

At first, my brain refused to believe what my eyes were seeing. What was he doing _here;_ why was he just _lying_ there? A second later I decided that it didn't matter as I ran across the room to the bed. "Sebastian!" I shouted, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. "Wake up!"

His eyes opened immediately and I saw that they were shining with the demon-light that only surfaced when allowing his demon nature to show through. He turned and looked at me. "Bocchan?"

"Get up!" I commanded. "We have to get out of here!"

His head and shoulders lifted, but then he flopped back into the pillows and sighed. "I am sorry, Bocchan. I wish I could obey you."

"Why can't you?" It was strange to see Sebastian just lying there.

"I was injured very badly," Sebastian answered. "It is taking me quite some time to recover."

I looked at him and only then I saw that his face and neck were mottled with bruises and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Nervous, I grasped his arm. "Will you be all right?"

He hissed in pain and croaked something that sounded like a curse, but it didn't sound like a word from any earthly language. "Ah! Please, young master, don't hold my arm in that spot. My shoulder would be much better, thank you."

I released his arm and stared at him. "I hurt you? _I _hurt _you_?" It was unbelievable. He was a demon and I was just a human! I shouldn't have been able to hurt him just by holding his arm! "What happened?"

"From what Marcellus has told me, I have several broken bones, and two of them are in my arms," he explained. "My bones were broken during my very short battle with the gray ones."

Belatedly I remembered their attack and shuddered. "Marcellus? Sebastian, there's something I don't understand. Why did Marcellus bring you here?" Why hadn't he just left him at the Phantomhive manor? Why bring him to the place where I was?

"I don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. "I've asked, of course, but he told me that he has his reasons, which is really no answer at all."

"So he brought you here and just put you in this room to rot?"

"Actually, no," he corrected. "I'm in this room to rest. Demons find the silence and darkness in a room like this most restful. In addition to providing me with a place to rest, Marcellus has given me medicines to help me heal and...well, he's been taking care of me. He's even performing a...procedure, if you will, that will shorten my recovery time. Otherwise, with injuries like these, it would take me at least three years to recover."

I must have looked shocked.

"Certain demon injuries heal at a different rate from human ones. I have a good many internal injuries in addition to the broken bones and bruises. Since such injuries are rare in a demon, so they take longer to heal. Our bodies heal such injuries slowly so they can be sure they're healing correctly," he explained. "Now, enough about me, young master. I'll be fine. What I want to know is how you are. Are you eating? Is your bronchitis better? Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Yes to all three," I told him. "Marcellus is a cook almost equal to you, my bronchitis is practically gone, I go to bed around nine-thirty and sometimes in the afternoons I have a nap. Physically, I'm fine."

"Ah," Sebastian said, relaxing some. "And mentally?"

"That's up to question," I said flatly. "I want to go home. Sir Charles is convinced I'm his son."

He stared at me. "How so?"

I explained, telling Sebastian all that Sir Charles had told me.

"That's interesting," Sebastian said. "So he contracted with Marcellus to obtain you? Hmm."

"The man is mad," I said, pacing. I nearly bashed into the gray one, but after a moment he stopped trying to follow me and moved to the far corner. What I'd thought was just a bundle of something in the corner moved as the gray one approached it, and I realized that it was another gray one. "How long has that thing been there?"

"He's always there. Either that, or an identical one comes when I'm asleep to spell him for a while. I don't know. When I first woke I kept expecting him to kill me, but Marcellus told me that he's to watch me to make sure I'm all right. I try to think of him like a nurse-watchdog."

I looked at the two creatures in the corner. "I think you've been down here too long. They don't resemble nurses."

"Well, humans have nurses to watch patients, so I went for the closest analogy I could think of," he said. "I think a cat would be better company, but I wouldn't wish to subject a cat to a gray one's company. Ordinary dogs are enough of an irritant for cats; supernatural ones would be even worse."

"Are they really dogs?" I asked.

"Well, in demeanor and behavior, yes," Sebastian said. "They have a pack conscience, but their appearance...hmm. I think that they're the remnants of a necromancer's experiment from long ago. He tried to make pack animals that would do his bidding, but he used human bones as their base, and they ended up that way. With mortal remains for their bodies and supernatural consciousnesses, they're trapped between worlds."

"Is that why they're more powerful than demons?" I asked. If they'd put Sebastian down like this, then they _had_ to be more powerful.

"Yes."

Such a calm statement told me that he didn't like to admit that there were creatures out there stronger than demons. "I see. How long is it before you think you can walk?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Bocchan. I can't sit up without something behind me to support me; I have no idea how long it will be before I can stand unaided, much less walk. Months, probably."

"_Months_?"

"Unfortunately."

"It will take even longer than that if a certain young master doesn't allow the patient to rest," I heard Marcellus say behind me.

I whirled to see him standing in the doorway, holding a tray. "Where did you come from?" I hadn't heard anything, and it looked as if Sebastian had had no idea that Marcellus was on his way.

"Rumor has it that I came from the kitchen," Marcellus chuckled. "Now, what are you doing down here, young master?"

"I was exploring," I said. "I didn't know you had Sebastian down here. Why is that, by the way?"

Marcellus smiled. "Oh, I have my reasons, young master."

"Which are?" I pressed.

He turned and smiled at me. "What an inquisitive young master you are! I won't tell you each reason I had for bringing him here, but I will tell you the most practical one. The servants at the Phantomhive estate are not equipped nor do they have the knowledge they need to heal a demon. Sebastian's recovery will be much more comfortable here. I was reluctant to have Sebastian hurt in the first place, so I at least owe him some healing." So saying, he sat down on the bed and helped Sebastian to sit up and lean against him. "Young master, would you be so kind as to hand me the cup on the tray?"

"Milk?" I said in surprise when I saw what the cup held. I handed it over, but for some reason I couldn't envision Sebastian enjoying a cup of milk.

"Medicines for pain are in the milk," Marcellus explained. "Here, Sebastian. Drink."

I expected him to refuse the milk, but he let Marcellus put the cup to his lips and he drank the milk without an argument. He must have been in a great deal of pain to accept medicines from an enemy.

"Very good," Marcellus said, handing me the empty cup and helping Sebastian lie prone. He pulled back the covers and I saw that Sebastian was wearing the absolute minimum for modesty. I tried to look away to give him some modicum of privacy, but before I could turn my head I saw ugly crescent-shaped bruises all over his body.

"What are those?" I gasped.

"Marks from the gray ones' bites," Marcellus said, slipping off his gloves and running his fingers over one of the bites. "How do they feel, Sebastian? Any pain?" His fingers pressed down on one bite and Sebastian twitched.

"Ah! Well, there's pain if you do _that_!" Sebastian snapped. "That hurt!"

"Was there burning pain, or just the pain from my fingers?"

"Just your fingers prodding me." Sebastian gave him a pointed look, but Marcellus ignored him and continued to do the same thing to each bite. It was surprising to hear Sebastian crying out in pain, but I figured that being able to complain about it gave him some small amount of comfort. I wasn't about to hold it against him, either.

"That's good," Marcellus said after prodding at the last bite. "There's no more poison left in the bites; all that's left of them to heal is the bruising. You won't need any more antiseptic on them. Very good."

"What are you doing now?" I asked as he proceeded to run his hands over Sebastian's chest and limbs.

"Checking the breaks," he said distractedly. "The bones have straightened and begun to knit, that's good. What's this?" he stopped and carefully dragged his fingers over the arm I'd grasped. "Sebastian, there's a sign of impact here. Have you knocked something with your arm? You weren't trying to get up, were you?"

"I think that's my fault," I told him. "You see, I forgot about the broken bones and grabbed his arm."

"I do see," Marcellus said, covering Sebastian again with the blanket and helping him sit up and lean against him.

"No!" Sebastian said as Marcellus began to roll up his left sleeve.

Marcellus looked at him, amused. "Whyever not?"

"Not in front of the young master," Sebastian said firmly.

Marcellus glanced at me. "Would it frighten him?"

"Would what frighten me?" I asked.

"Feeding him," Marcellus said matter-of-factly.

That confused me. "Don't you eat souls?"

"We demons have another way of feeding others of our kind," Marcellus said. "Feeding him this way will help him recover more quickly than just rest and medicines."

What the devil was he waiting for, then? If it helped Sebastian heal...

"Seeing it might frighten or disgust you, young master," Sebastian warned. "It might be better if you waited in the hallway."

"Oh, just get on with it," I ordered. "I'm not about to faint or run away no matter what you do."

Sebastian looked as if he wished I had left, and he watched bleakly as the area around Marcellus darkened and shifted. For a split second or perhaps for even less than that, his true form became discernible. I saw a talon slash at Marcellus' wrist, and then he was pressing that wrist against Sebastian's mouth...Marcellus was _feeding_ Sebastian his _blood_.

No wonder Sebastian hadn't wanted me to watch. I felt almost as if I were spying on them; as if I were seeing something humans just weren't meant to see. Marcellus showed no sign of taking his wrist away, and when Sebastian swallowed his eyes closed. One swallow, two, three...how much did Marcellus want him to drink?

"There you are, just like that," Marcellus encouraged. "That's the way, little one."

I stared at him. Had I just heard him call Sebastian _little one_?

I lost track of how many times Sebastian swallowed and I just watched. I still had the feeling as if I were watching something that I shouldn't, but I didn't know why. More than once I saw Sebastian's hands twitch as if he wanted to reach up and hold Marcellus' arm in place, and I saw Marcellus' free hand come up and cup Sebastian's head, supporting it so he could drink. More than once I saw him thread his fingers through Sebastian's hair, actually caressing him. Just what was I seeing, and what did it mean?

After one last swallow, Sebastian pulled his head back and sighed. Even with his eyes closed, I could see them glowing. Marcellus rose from the bed and slowly lowered Sebastian into the pillows.

"He'll sleep for the next several hours," he whispered. "We should return upstairs, young master."

"I want to stay with him," I said, unwilling to go. What if I left and Marcellus moved him somewhere else while I was gone?

"You may come back tomorrow," Marcellus promised. "He'll be happy to see you."

"Can I trust that promise?" I asked.

"I give you my word," he said.

I knew that when a demon gave his word, he had to keep it, with or without a contract to the person he was giving that word to. "All right."

He led me out of the room and just behind us came the gray one that had been following me around. Marcellus closed the door quietly and led the way down the hallway.

"Marcellus," I said as he led me up the stairs. "Why did you call Sebastian 'little one'?"

"He's a few thousand years younger than I am."

"But he's not a child."

"He is compared to me."

Oh, he was annoying!

"You weren't frightened, were you, young master?"

I looked at him. "I was surprised, but not frightened," I admitted. "That will help him heal more quickly?"

"It will," Marcellus assured me. "It's not something that's done very often, so that was probably why Sebastian was reluctant to have you see it. He still isn't very comfortable with the idea."

"Oh."

"I hope you'll still have an appetite for supper after that, young master," Marcellus said. "In the meantime, you could go play. Please excuse me."

I glared at his retreating back. "How many times do I have to tell you? I DON'T PLAY!"


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter is entirely from Sebastian's POV. Thanks for all the reviews!

Chapter 8

Of all things I had envisioned happening in my life, this had not been one of them. I could not believe that I was being nursed back to health by an enemy after he had been the cause of my injuries in the first place!

Still, there it was.

The relief I felt on seeing my master could not be expressed by anyone, human or demon. All I could do was stare at him, struggling to believe that he was all right and that he was there in front of me. Even more amazing, he appeared to have been worried about me! If I had been a human, that would have warmed the cockles of my heart. As a demon, I was rather surprised and pleased.

Until he grasped my arm.

I lost my composure enough to swear and then to quickly request him to move his grip to a different place. Of all the places on my body he had to grab, did he have to grab one of the places that was _broken_? Well, he couldn't have known, but that didn't mean that I didn't wish he couldn't have found a different place…

The fact that he'd managed to hurt me unsettled him. I'd never seen him look so shocked. "I hurt you?" he gasped. "_I_ hurt _you_? What happened?"

I explained as best I could, and I saw him struggle to wrap his mind around what I told him. I knew that he might become very frightened if he thought about this too much longer, so I asked him questions in order to get his mind off of my injuries. I asked him how he was, if he was getting enough to eat, and so on. It was somewhat flattering to hear that Marcellus was a cook almost equal to me, and I was glad to hear that my young master's bronchitis was practically gone and that he was getting plenty of sleep.

Any good feelings evaporated once he told me why Sir Charles had had him kidnapped and brought to this place. The man was a delusional madman. Oh, perfect. I distracted him quickly with information about the gray ones, explaining their origins and their nature and telling him about my nurse-watchdog analogy. He was distracted momentarily with that, but then he asked if they were more powerful than demons. Since I never lied, I had to tell him the truth, but I didn't like to admit that they were more powerful. I could see him thinking about that, and then he asked how long it would be before I could walk. I knew he wanted to leave that place as soon as possible, but I couldn't sit up or stand, let alone walk. When I told him it might be months, he stared at me.

"_Months_?"

"Unfortunately," I said. That information had hit him hard. Very, very hard.

"It will take even longer than that if a certain young master doesn't allow the patient to rest," Marcellus said from the doorway.

Oh, wonderful. I'd been hoping that Marcellus wouldn't know of the young master's visit, and there he was in the doorway…This just kept getting better and better…

My young master asked questions, which Marcellus answered truthfully without giving any information away. He was very good at dissembling without lying and I had to applaud him for it, but really, couldn't he have let just _one_ little tidbit slip?

He helped me sit up and lean against him, just like always, and he had the young master hand him my medicine. I could see that he was shocked I drank milk, but the pain I was in from the young master holding my arm was enough to make me want to _swim_ in the medicine rather than just drink it. As always, I had forgotten how much something could hurt until it started to hurt again.

"Very good," Marcellus said, helping me to lie down again before pulling off the blankets. I wished I could have warned the young master to look away before he'd done that: My body was not the prettiest of sights right now. I could tell that my bruised and battered body shocked him. Marcellus pulled off his gloves and began prodding the bites, and a moment later I deeply wished that he hadn't. One little poke with his fingers and my entire side hurt! What was he _doing_?

I was glad that he could tell there was no more poison left in the bites, but really!

He began to run his fingers over my body, checking on how my broken bones were, but when he came to my arm he was surprised at the signs of impact. Fortunately, my young master explained what had happened and Marcellus simply nodded and covered me back up again so I wouldn't become chilled. I'd started to relax, but then he sat down beside me and rolled up his sleeve…

"No!" I said sharply, realizing what he intended.

He looked amused, damn him again. "Whyever not?"

How could I answer this without dying of embarrassment? "Not in front of the young master," I said firmly. I didn't know if it would frighten or disgust him or…well, I just didn't know how he would take it at all.

Marcellus asked if feeding me would frighten the young master, and I could tell that he was confused. As far as he knew, I only ate humans' souls. Marcellus told him that demons had another way to feed others of their kind and that doing so would help me heal more quickly. When he heard that I could tell that he couldn't wait for Marcellus to feed me. Anything that got us out of there sooner was all right with the young master!

"Seeing it might frighten you or disgust you, young master," I warned him quickly. Please, please let him take this suggestion… "It might be better if you waited in the hallway."

"Oh, just get on with it," he said. "I'm not about to faint or run away no matter what you do."

Of all times to be stubborn, he had to choose this one. I only hoped he wouldn't prove himself wrong.

Marcellus didn't wait, and within seconds I had the taste of his blood on my tongue. As always, I forgot about everything else while I drank. The taste filled each of my senses…I could taste the sound, the smell, the color of it…It went far beyond my normal senses in every way.

"There you are, just like that," I heard Marcellus say from a great distance away. "That's the way, little one."

Each swallow was entirely new yet blended with the other tastes in a harmonious whole that overwhelmed me. Overwhelmed I was, and as I neared satiation, I felt myself falling, almost plummeting into sleep.

When I woke, Marcellus was sitting next to me, leafing through a book. I watched him for a moment, surprised at seeing him doing something so normal. Had he been watching over me, or simply waiting for me to wake?

"Ah, welcome back," Marcellus said, setting the book aside. "How do you feel?"

"About the same," I confessed. "When did I fall asleep?"

"On the penultimate swallow," Marcellus told me.

"And the young master?"

"He didn't appear frightened or disgusted," he reassured me. "He wanted to stay with you while you slept, but I promised that he could come back tomorrow. He did admit to being surprised at my method of feeding you, however."

"I'm still surprised," I said. "I don't understand you at all. Why heal me and why feed me in that manner? We aren't friends or anything like that, so why…?"

"Well, I'm fond of you in my own way."

"You've said that before," I reminded him. "You've yet to explain it."

"I have my reasons."

"So you've said," I snapped. "Now, what are those reasons?" My tone made it very clear that if he didn't explain something soon, I might do something desperate.

"Ah, don't be so impetuous, little one," he said happily. "In due time, in due time, I promise."

"And again we come full circle," I muttered. "Very well. I guess I'll have to wait until you're ready to explain it, if ever."

"Mm-hmm," Marcellus said. "Sebastian, I have to ask you something: Does the young master really not play?"

That question was so unexpected that I laughed. "Oh, did he say that?"

"He was very adamant that he doesn't play, yet I've seen him do it."

"Oh, he would be," I said. "He doesn't like to think of himself as a child with a child's interests, but he does play sometimes. Just don't call it 'playing' or 'amusing yourself' when you talk to him about it. He might attempt to remove your head."

"So far I've managed to avoid any decapitation," he said calmly. "I shall keep that in mind. How should I refer to such actions on his part?"

"Oh, 'distraction' always works well," I suggested. He was being kind enough to heal me, so I supposed I could do him this small favor at least. "You could say, 'You could distract yourself for a while, young master,' or something of that nature."

He was thinking about what I'd said. "I shall have to try that. When I suggested he play until supper, he actually yelled at me."

"Yes, he does that sometimes. The trick is not to annoy him."

Marcellus nodded. He looked as if he were calculating his odds. "Any chance of your telling me how to get him to cooperate with us?"

His expression said it all. "Oh, dear. What was it this time?"

"He didn't wish to eat what I'd prepared for supper, but he still wished for dessert. Being denied dessert, he refused to go to bed and he fought us every step of the way until Sir Charles threatened to…well, he didn't take that suggestion well. He became hysterical."

I could guess what that suggestion was and groaned. "Oh, he did the worst thing he could have done," I said. "The absolute _worst_ thing! Did the young master calm down before you left him?"

"He was no longer cursing, if that's what you mean," he said. "He was, however, crouched in a corner fending the two of us off with the fire irons."

I groaned. "Sir Charles is lucky he wasn't concussed with those fire irons," I told him. "Very, very lucky. I hope he had the good sense to leave him alone after that."

Marcellus shot me a startled look. "Excuse me a moment."

I could see only bad things coming from this. Either that, or a murder charge. I waited patiently for Marcellus to return and if I'd been able, I would have paced. What was taking so long?

"He was almost concussed," Marcellus said as he returned.

"Oh, for the love of…" I gasped as Marcellus re-took his seat. "What happened?"

"Sir Charles was attempting to get the young master to go to bed, but he wouldn't. When I got to the room, I could tell the young master was more than ready to swing on Sir Charles, so I interposed myself between them, took the fire irons, and sent the young master to sleep. I now have the feeling I shouldn't have left, but Sir Charles had told me that he could see the young master to bed on his own."

"Ah, famous last words," I said.

"Indeed. Why would mention of such a thing send the young master into hysterics?"

"That's…complicated," I said. "The simplest answer is that he feels such a punishment would impugn his dignity. He feels he's far too old for spankings."

Marcellus nodded. "Is there a more complex answer?"

"You do know that he was kept captive for a month or so when he was younger?" I had a feeling he would know that, but how I was sure of that fact was beyond me…

Again he nodded.

"I think such a punishment was part of his torture while he was in their hands," I said quietly. I had no proof of such a thing since my young master had never told me, but I had seen a few subtle clues over the few years I had served him, enough to enable me to draw my own conclusions.

Marcellus blinked. It was much to his credit that it didn't take him long to catch on. "I see. I shall ensure that Sir Charles never mentions that again."

"The young master will be nervous and irritable for the next few days," I warned him. "He'll be even more difficult."

Marcellus groaned. "Wonderful. Absolutely bloody wonderful."

Seeing such a human reaction amused me to no end. The poor man really was at his wit's end with the young master! Ah, sweet revenge for all the trouble he'd caused! Sweet, sweet revenge!

"Yes, yes, all right, we've made a mistake. I can practically hear your thoughts from here," Marcellus said. "Sebastian, please, tell me how to get him to cooperate with us so we won't make such a mistake again."

I pondered this. Would it be a betrayal of my master to tell Marcellus what he needed to know? If I did that then this whole experience might become easier for my young master since he wouldn't have to constantly battle Marcellus and Sir Charles in order to feel he was still in control of his own life. Then again…hmm. Wait, this could actually work to my advantage as well. "I'll tell you if you answer one question for me," I said at last.

"It depends on the question," Marcellus said. "If I don't answer it, then you don't have to tell me how to handle the young master."

"What reasons do you have for not killing me?" If I understood that, then I might be able to understand how Marcellus thought and by extrapolation, how best to defeat him.

"You know, your fixation on that is beginning to worry me," he said. "All right, all right. I'll tell you, but first let me ask you a question. How many demons are there in comparison to humans?"

I thought about that. There were millions of humans, but demons' numbers in comparison… "A handful in comparison," I said at last. "Just under ten thousand, I think."

"Exactly," Marcellus said. "Killing you would mean there would be one less demon in the world. Also, you are younger than me, so I regard you as a child. I know you are not, but you are several thousand years younger than I am. We demons do not kill children of our own kind, you know. You are someone's child and someday you might have a child of your own. Our numbers are too few to lose you."

"Is that the whole reason?" I asked. Somehow I didn't get the feeling that he had told me everything.

"The whole reason you'll understand now," he said. "I'll explain this in more detail later. Now, I have duties to attend to, but before I go, I'd like you to know I've brought you some books to look through if you're bored. You should have strength enough for that. If you need anything, just say so, and I will come."

"What duties do you have to see to? The young master's already in bed, isn't he?"

"But Sir Charles isn't," he said. "I can tell that he's regretting his threat of earlier…In fact, I'm rather surprised that he lost his patience like that."

"The young master tries even my patience several times a day," I said lightly. "It's normal."

Amazing, this sudden camaraderie. Well, we were both dealing with a mercurial young master. That would be enough to make any two people at least friendly with each other.

"I see," Marcellus said. "Well, you have my congratulations for handling him for so long. Speaking of handling him…"

I heard the hint. "You have to let him think that he's winning," I said. "Either let him think that he's winning or that he has a chance of winning. Bargain with him and treat him as an adult. He'll respond to that."

He stared at me. "It can't be that simple."

"It is," I promised. "I bargain with him all the time to get him to do his lessons. If I manage a certain task in an allotted time, then he does his lessons for the day. If I insist he go to bed, I don't insist that he sleeps, he just has to stay in bed. I'll give him his dessert after dinner, but only after he proves to me that he's eaten a certain portion of his dinner. If you bargain with him or challenge him in some way, then he'll cooperate."

He gave me a look. "That sounds awfully close to bribery in some respects."

"It works," I pointed out. "It's my job to remind him to go to bed, not to make sure he sleeps. It's my job to make and serve his meals, not to spoon-feed him. It's my job to remind him of his schedule for his lessons and work, not to do those tasks for him. He has only himself to blame if he's tired from staying up too late the night before, hungry from not eating an adequate dinner or swamped with work if he lets it go too long. I think that on some level my master understands that he's still child and that he needs an adult to structure his days, but at the same time he feels he's old enough to make decisions on whether he should obey me or not. I let him make his own decisions and he's learned from his mistakes in the past."

I could see Marcellus thinking about this. I could practically feel his mind processing it from where I sat. "Explained that way, I see your point," he said at last. "I'll give it a try."

"Good luck," I said.

In my tone he'd heard what I hadn't said. "I'll need it? Oh, that's likely."

He left shortly afterward, leaving me to the peace and quiet of my room. I did look at the books he left me, read some, and then I slept again. I woke up at one point, decided it wasn't worth staying awake, and went back to sleep. This happened on and off for the next few hours until I woke up to see the young master sitting there. He looked so unhappy that I was concerned.

"Bocchan?"

He looked at me. "Sebastian. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, Bocchan," I said. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "I'm fine."

I looked him over. "You don't look fine. You look…upset."

"Did Marcellus tell you what happened last night?"

I nodded. "He did."

"Then you know why I'm upset," he said flatly. "At any rate, I don't want to talk about it."

"Very well, Bocchan."

He looked down at something he held. It looked like a heap of fur from where I lay. "What is that, Bocchan?"

"I brought you something," he said, holding it out to me. "I know it's not as good as the real thing, but I can't get near the real thing. I thought this could give you some company when I'm not here."

It was adorable. There was no other word for it. If it had been a real cat instead of a stuffed toy, I would have been helpless. I would have been trying to fetch tuna for it despite my broken bones. "Young master, this is wonderful," I said wholeheartedly. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome." Again he was silent. Hmm.

"Bocchan, how are you holding up?"

"I want to go home," he said, his tone flat. "I hate it here."

I could tell that he wanted to go home with his entire being. I had never seen him so despondent. That change worried me far more than I thought it would.

"I know you do," I said. "Bocchan, if you get a chance to go, then you should take it. Don't wait on me to get well."

He stared at me. "What?"

"If you get a chance to escape here, then go," I repeated. "Remaining here for me won't do you any good. You feel as if you're being crushed, aren't you?"

He looked at me, but the fact that he wouldn't say anything was proof enough for me.

"I am being crushed," he said. "I'm crushed between the two of them. Have you ever been so worried that you feel as if you can't get a deep breath, Sebastian?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "Each time feels like the first time, though." I knew the feeling he was alluding to. I knew that he was feeling crushed by worry about his situation, about Marcellus and Sir Charles, and about me. Some way had to be found to relieve it, or he would withdraw from the world around him and become practically catatonic. I had seen this happen only once before and it had frightened me. He could look at me when I spoke to him, but he wouldn't be able to answer, and he wouldn't be able to do most things on his own. Fear and worry would almost paralyze him until he felt safe enough to come out of it.

If that happened here, then he would be completely at Sir Charles' and Marcellus' mercy, and I would be unable to do anything. If he got away from here and if he knew he didn't have to worry about me, then we might be able to avoid that state of mind all together.

Hopefully.

"I don't even have enough energy to hate him anymore," he said quietly, sitting down on the floor beside my bed and leaning against it.

"Who? Sir Charles?"

"Mmm-hmm. There are times when he's awfully nice to me and I just want to hate him for it, but I can't feel angry. I'm just tired."

This...wasn't normal. In fact, his bringing me something to cheer me up wasn't normal either, when I thought about it. He knew my love for cats and he refused to have them around the estate since doing so would make me happy. (He enjoyed irking me like that.) Also, it wasn't normal for him to show this much weakness in front of me. What the _hell_ was going on?

Being very careful of my broken bones, I reached out and laid a hand on his forehead. There was no fever, but his face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. I was about to take my hand away when he reached up with his hands and held my hand where it was. I heard his unspoken request and began to smooth his hair. He was feeling comforted from the physical contact. I was one of the few people that he allowed to touch him on any regular basis, but he rarely asked for physical comforting like this. He drew comfort from my presence regularly since I could protect him from danger, but the fact that he wished such physical reassurance was worrying.

"Sebastian?"

"Hmm?" He sounded sleepy, and I hoped that if I spoke quietly and kept on stroking his hair, he would sleep.

"What would happen to you if I would die?"

Where was _that_ coming from? "What makes you think you're going to die, Bocchan?"

"A human being can't be this tired without being close to death. You and I, we still haven't obtained my revenge. That means that you won't be able to take my soul, but if I die before then..."

"I'm here to protect you, Bocchan," I told him. "Even with bruises and broken bones, I'll protect you to my last breath, if need be."

"If I died, it wouldn't be very fair to you after all your hard work," he said thoughtfully. "It would be like you're being cheated."

This talk of his had gone beyond worrying me; now, I was frightened. It was time for him to think of other situations that he'd come through; situations that looked likely to end in death but hadn't.

"You're not dead yet, Bocchan," I told him. "Plenty of people have sought to kill you in your short lifetime, yet you're still here."

"I don't feel like I'm really here," he said. "Do demons dream when they sleep?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "Dreams are rarely clear and we hardly ever remember them, though."

"I feel like I'm dreaming all the time I'm awake, and when I'm asleep, I feel like I'm awake. I can't make anything make sense, and I'm always hearing things whispering to me..."

I looked at him, expecting him to continue, but I saw he'd fallen asleep. What he'd said...feeling that he was asleep when he was awake and awake when he was asleep and things whispering to him...That sounded familiar. I knew I'd heard about such a condition before, but where I'd heard it or what it was called...Blast! Of all times to have a lapse in memory! At any rate, I knew Marcellus was behind it. He had to be.

The door opened. "Oh, there he is," Marcellus said quietly. "How long has he been there?"

"A short while only," I answered. "Marcellus, he was talking about dying. What the blazes are you doing to him?"

The expression on his face was blank. "I have my orders, Sebastian."

"Why does he feel like he's dreaming when he's awake and awake when he's asleep? What's whispering to him?" I wanted to know. "What are you _doing_?"

He knelt down to pick up the young master and I didn't even see his hand approach me until I felt the pressure of his fingertips on my forehead. "Back to sleep, little one."

Sleep descended and no matter how I fought, it caught and held me prisoner. It would be a long while before I woke up.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ciel's POV:

I was so tired. The last time I had felt this tired was after my ordeal at the hands of those beasts in human form. When I asked him, Sebastian told me that I had spent days sleeping after he took me to the reconstructed Phantomhive manor. I would wake, have a little something to eat or drink, and then I would go back to sleep. Sometimes I would be awake a little longer in order to have a bath, but I would always go back to sleep.

I felt the same way now. I was tired, tired, tired. Between Marcellus and Sir Charles and…and…those whispering voices…I had no energy left. I didn't know when the voices started or where they came from or even what they were, but they were starting to slowly drive me mad. Even when it was perfectly _quiet_ I could hear them. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but they were always there in the background, whispering to me. The clearest word I heard them say was "Ciel."

I lost so much energy and felt so tired that there began to be times when I felt asleep even when I was awake, and my dreams were the times when I felt most like myself. Unfortunately, even in my dreams, the voices followed me, whispering, whispering…

The only relief I had from them was when Sir Charles or Marcellus spoke to me. I began to welcome their presence since they would talk to me and the voices would stop. I began to look forward to Sir Charles' stories about his wife and about the life he had planned for me. I asked him questions so that he would talk even more. I would ask questions about his answers and ask him to further explain or describe something so he wouldn't stop talking. When he or Marcellus taught me during my lesson times, I would ask for as many explanations of a concept as possible. During the times I spent alone, to distract myself I played the phonograph or sent for Marcellus to ask him to read to me. Sometimes I went to Sir Charles' office and asked to stay there while he worked. Sometimes he spoke on the telephone and I blessed long telephone conversations. Other times he would talk to himself while working and I breathed a sigh of relief when he started doing that.

Night time was the worst time out of the day. As soon as I was left alone to fall asleep the voices would descend, whispering at such a rate that I entertained the thought that they had to make up for lost time. After two nights of that torture, I started asking Sir Charles to read to me until I fell asleep. He was only too happy to do so and it was fortunate that he read in such a way that I was lulled to sleep rather than kept awake.

I had been hoping that Sebastian's voice would also drive those infernal voices away, but I could still hear them while we talked during our visits. It was a vain hope, but there was some saying that hope and such things would always spring eternal. In my distracted state I couldn't remember where the phrase had come from, but it seemed apt. I was always hoping that I wouldn't hear them.

I could tell that Sebastian was worried about me. The way he looked at me when I sat next to his bed told me that he was very worried indeed. Even the fact that I let him smooth my hair worried him. I didn't feel so alone when he touched me, so I allowed it. In fact, in some ways I looked forward to it. I didn't feel so alone and I didn't feel so threatened. He might have broken bones and be unable to get up, but he was still alive and he was still willing to protect me, even if it cost him his life. The knowledge that he would do that made me feel somewhat safer.

Being so tired all the time, I lost the will to argue or fight with Sir Charles or Marcellus. If they told me to do something, then I did it. In my first few days with Sir Charles I avoided him like a plague or bad song. If I was sitting on a sofa and he sat down next to me, I would get up and move to a chair. Now, if he sat next to me, I stayed where I was. Before, I wouldn't allow him to touch me, but now he could put an arm around me or play with my hair and I wouldn't move away. I was just too tired. As long as he spoke, I could bear being so close to him and having him touch me. As long as he was talking, I had some relief from the voices.

I even stopped fighting them. I had refused to eat what Marcellus had served for dinner one night and he refused to let me have my dessert. I was furious at such treatment and I was even more upset when Sir Charles suggested I go to bed early. I fought them as much as possible and I supposed that I had managed to push Sir Charles too far when he said my behavior was unacceptable and threatened to turn me over his knee if I didn't show a little more of the decorum he expected from his son. Hearing that made me go for the fire irons in an attempt to fend them off, and it was several hours later that Marcellus came and sent me to sleep. During my dreams that night I heard the voices even worse than when I was awake, all of them hissing and growling at me. A night of dreams like that led me to actually apologize for my behavior the next morning and I stopped fighting.

I was afraid that I was going mad, but I didn't dare say it out loud. Saying it might make it real, and then I would really be in trouble. I had once read somewhere that when people became mad their personalities changed, and I had to admit to myself that I had definitely changed since being brought here. I tolerated being held a prisoner, I was quiet and obedient to my jailers, and I came to welcome their presence and I allowed one of them to touch me even though I hated being touched. I was changing. I was becoming someone I didn't recognize. I wasn't Ciel Phantomhive any longer, I was becoming Ciel Emmeridge.

I was in that state of mind when I woke one gray, drizzly day. I had no idea how long it had been since I first arrived there, and I found I couldn't work up the energy to care.

"Good morning, young master," Marcellus said as he came in. Ah, it was good to hear his voice. I hoped he was in a talkative mood. "Did you sleep well?"

"Tolerably," I answered. "It's raining."

"Ah, yes," he said, sounding disappointed. "I was hoping for sunshine today, but I suppose the flowers need rain. I've brought your tea."

"What kind is it?" I could tell that it was Earl Grey, but I wanted him to talk so the voices would stay away.

"Today's tea is an Earl Grey blend," he said, pouring a cup for me. "Two sugars this morning, young master?"

"Please." Why did he keep falling silent? "What's for breakfast this morning?"

"Today's breakfast? This morning we have wilted spinach salad with soft-boiled eggs, sausage, and pain perdu with fruit preserves or maple syrup."

I felt my stomach growl. Hearing about the sausage and pain perdu did it. I was suddenly hungry and very eager for breakfast. "That sounds wonderful," I said, getting out of bed. I was still very tired and my head hurt, but I knew I could get Sir Charles to talk over breakfast. I stopped and rubbed my right temple, wishing the headache would go away.

"Are you feeling all right, young master?"

"I've a slight headache, but that's all," I said, brushing it off. "Probably due to the change in weather." How to get him to talk again? Oh, I had it! "How is Sebastian this morning?"

"Cranky," Marcellus said, sounding amused.

That surprised me so much that I stopped in my way over to the wardrobe. "Cranky?"

"Very," Marcellus said. "He frets at his inactivity, frets at his slow healing, frets at the gray one I assigned to keep him company, and frets about you. He seems to think that I'm not taking care of you properly."

"Sebastian takes pride in his work and he feels that caring for me is his exclusive duty," I reminded him. "How is he coming along? No problems?"

"His bones are knitting just fine and the bruising has gone down somewhat. He's now able to hold a book for a short while and turn the pages, but not much else."

"Why not?" I knew how strong Sebastian was and he was only able to hold a book? I couldn't believe it.

"If he held anything really heavy or did something his bones aren't ready for, they could break again. Right now the places where the bones were broken are fine webs of threads of bone connecting the two larger masses of bone. If too much stress is placed on those webs, they will break and then he'll have to heal again."

A nice, long answer. "You aren't giving him big books to read, are you?"

He chuckled. "No, young master. Just small ones, ones that he can hold with one hand. I promise."

By that point I was dressed and Marcellus led me down to breakfast. I greeted Sir Charles and asked him what he had to do that day and thanks be to all merciful beings out there, he started talking and chatted for about a half-hour. Blessed, blessed silence. Well, almost. I asked well-timed questions so he would keep talking, and I followed him to his office and felt a rush of relief when I saw that he had a great many telephone calls to make. What a glorious relief! All that talking!

Yes, I was becoming just a touch fixated, but that was better than being driven mad by whispering voices. I curled up in a chair with a book while he made his phone calls and attended to business (once again, I was thankful for the fact that he talked to himself while he worked) and then I was happy enough to have him tutor me for the day. If I asked a question, then he explained things in detail and with several examples, which meant he _talked._ That was the most important thing. I made sure to always ask plenty of questions.

By lunchtime my headache had not abated and to boot my throat was sore. No, I refused to be sick again! If I were sick they would leave me alone to rest and that was one thing I didn't want!

"Ciel, are you all right?" Sir Charles asked as we headed down the stairs toward the dining room. "You're awfully pale."

"I'm a little tired," I said. "I think I just need to eat."

"All right, then."

Trying to eat lunch was a mistake. Everything I tried to swallow hurt my throat and I actually choked when I took a sip of hot tea. Feeling something that hot on my throat was painful and the next thing I knew I had Sir Charles on one side of me and Marcellus on the other, each making sure that I was all right.

"I swallowed wrong, that's all," I rasped. Blazes, that had hurt! It hurt even worse when I coughed to clear my throat and I really wished I hadn't. Both of them were giving me concerned looks.

"How long have you been coughing like that, young master?" Marcellus wanted to know.

"I haven't been coughing," I coughed. "It started just now." I didn't want to admit that each time I coughed my chest hurt and my throat felt as if it were being rubbed with sandpaper.

"That's true, Marcellus," Sir Charles said, patting me on the back. "He didn't cough once all morning."

"He sounds awful," Marcellus said, putting his hand on my forehead. "As I thought. Master, he's feverish. He should be in bed."

"I don't have a fever!" I protested as Sir Charles picked me up. "I don't want to go to bed!" Maybe I still had a little fight left in me…

"When you're ill you need to rest," Sir Charles told me. "It's possible you may be having a relapse."

"I don't want a relapse!"

I seemed to have amused Sir Charles. "Well, we'll have to do what we can to make sure that it's a short one," he said. "That means you'll have to rest, Ciel."

"But I want to stay with you!" I wailed, my breath hitching. Please, please don't let them put me in a room by myself with no way to stop the voices…

I felt his arms tighten around me in a hug and he kissed my forehead. "I'll stay with you as long as you like, Ciel," he told me. "All day, if you want."

"All day?" I hadn't dared hope for that long. "Really?"

He smiled. "Really. I'll read to you and tell you stories. How's that?"

I felt myself smile. "That sounds wonderful."

I let Sir Charles carry me upstairs and help me get ready for bed. Once I was tucked in Marcellus brought tea for Sir Charles and warm lemonade for me and I settled in to listen to Sir Charles read _The Old Curiosity Shop_. I felt sorry for Little Nell and her grandfather, laughed at the traveling entertainers, hated the strict schoolmistress, loathed Daniel Quilp, wished to bash Sally Brass over the head, and felt sad at the ending. Sir Charles put aside the book and we talked it over before Marcellus arrived.

"I have some medicine for the young master," he said, holding up a bottle.

I gave the bottle a wary look. "What is it?"

"Cough syrup."

I shuddered. Most cough syrups on the market were foul and most of them only succeeded in putting a patient to sleep since they included laudanum in their ingredients. Sure, they stopped the cough but that was because the patient was unconscious. "No, thank you."

Marcellus chuckled. "You don't think I'd let you take some patent medicine, do you?" he said, carefully pouring some red liquid into a spoon. "I made this myself."

"What's in it?" I asked suspiciously.

"Onion, lemons, honey, cloves, ginger, cayenne, and a little brandy," he told me, holding out the dose. "I know it doesn't sound too appetizing, but it doesn't taste bad at all. I promise."

"It sounds awful," I said, sitting up. He didn't really want me to take that, did he?

"One swallow and it's gone," he prompted.

I looked at Sir Charles. "Best take it, Ciel," he said. "I'm sure you'll feel better."

"I'm sure I won't," I answered. "I'll stop coughing, but I'll be sick to my stomach instead."

Marcellus smiled. "I can promise that you won't be, young master. Open up."

"But I…" I shouldn't have tried to speak. Quicker than I could follow his hand, the spoon was in my mouth and the syrup was on its way down my throat. Marcellus was so fast that I didn't even have time to gag and the slightest of spicy, sweet tastes lingered at the back of my mouth as Marcellus took the spoon away. I waited for my stomach to reject it, but instead I felt a slight warmth spread through my stomach and my chest.

"You see?" Marcellus said. "You'll have some more in a few hours, but that should do you for now." He looked past me to the bedside table and spotted my empty glass. "In the meantime, I'll bring you some more lemonade. More tea, master?"

"Cool water will be fine, thank you, Marcellus," Sir Charles said.

I settled back into my pillows and enjoyed the comfort. As long as Sir Charles was talking, I didn't have to worry about those wretched voices driving me to distraction. Wait a moment…He wasn't talking, and there were no voices…Were they gone? Had I gone deaf? No, I could still hear other things, so that didn't make sense. What was going on? No, wait...damn it! There they were again!

"Everything all right, Ciel?" Sir Charles asked.

I nodded. "Yes." I had to keep him talking. What would he want to talk about? I'd asked him everything I could think of about his wife, about his plans for me...ah, wait, I had it! "What is Christmas going to be like?" As far as I knew, every child in England loved Christmas, and I had a feeling that Sir Charles would have planned something special for my first Christmas with him.

His face lit up. "Ah, Christmas! That's not far off, isn't it? Well, first we're going to have a tree...the biggest tree in the county..."

I settled more securely into my pillows, more than ready to listen for as long as he was prepared to talk.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

"You gray lump," I muttered, staring at my guard/nurse. "All you do is sit there and stare at me. What do you want?"

No answer. Of course.

"You lump," I continued. "Why don't you go do something useful?"

It put its head down on its paws and sighed.

"I'm starting to think I should call you Lumpy," I said, and the thing raised its head and looked at me. I picked up an extinguished candle and launched it across the room, laughing when the thing leapt in the air and caught it. Lumpy trotted over to my bed and deposited the candle next to my hand, and I threw it again.

Yes, I was bored. Very, very bored. I had finished the books and was unable to go back to sleep, so there I was, awake and unable to do anything. I hadn't seen Marcellus since waking, nor had I seen the young master. I was worried, yes, but there was precious little I could do to alleviate the worry other than fret. I could either read the books again or...well, I was doing what else was available to me. I was finally interacting with my guard/nurse. Lumpy was a typical dog...now, if he had been a cat, that would have been perfect.

I'd made no progress in remembering what Marcellus was doing to the young master. It seemed my efforts to remember only drove the information deeper into my memory, and now I had a bit of a headache whenever I considered the problem. Something had to change soon or he might lose his reason.

If only I could remember what it was that Marcellus was doing and how to stop it!

Lumpy stopped in his pursuit of the candle, his head cocked to the right. A moment later I heard what he could hear: someone was coming, and it sounded like the young master. The footsteps came closer and the door opened, and there he was.

"Young master?" I said, seeing him wrapped up in a dressing gown and wearing slippers. That was an unusal sight since he felt it was improper not to be dressed during the day. "Is it in the middle of the night?" Then I saw his expression. "Are you all right?"

"I can't find Sir Charles or Marcellus," he said, shuffling into the room and sinking into a chair. "I fell asleep and they left me alone and only when they're talking do the voices stop..."

Ah, so it was still bothering him... "Young master, I think that Marcellus is the one causing this."

He nodded. "I think you're right. It only gets better when he or Sir Charles is around. I think he's training me to perfer their company or something."

Training..._training..._Abruptly, I could remember what it was called. Some demons from the higher classes had more sophisticated ways of hunting their prey by using a technique called Influence. Using it, they could train their prey to avoid certain places or people or to prefer the sole company of the demon. Most often, the demons using it would key the Influence to themselves, ensuring that their prey would only be able to tolerate their company. The longer a human was with the demon they'd contracted with and the longer the contract, then the better the flavor of the soul. It stood to reason that Marcellus would have such a tecnique at his disposal, and I knew that in the past humans had been driven mad by it when their demons used it too often. The technique often fatigued the human and left him feeling as if his dreams were more real than his waking life. It made sense. "Young master, you've helped me remember what it is," I said quickly.

He looked at me. "The voices?"

"Yes, the voices and everything else," I said, holding out my hand so he could take it. I knew he wanted some type of physical contact with me and right now, that was easiest.

"What is it?"

"It's a demonic technique called Influence," I said. "Higher-class demons use it to influence their prey and train them to certain behaviors."

He looked at me. "How do I make it stop?"

"Only the demon who starts the Influence can make it stop," Marcellus said from the doorway. "Now, what are you doing here, young master? I thought Sir Charles and I told you stay in bed?"

I could feel my young master relax as Marcellus spoke. "I wanted to see Sebastian, Marcellus."

Marcellus nodded. "I see. What would Sir Charles say if he knew you were up? He would be disappointed, young master."

My young master gave a bleak laugh, showing a spark of his old spirit. "I doubt that it matters. I'm going mad, Marcellus."

"Oh, I find that hard to believe, young master," he said, stepping into the room and leaving the door open. "If you were going mad, I would know."

My master laughed again. "I think I would know before you would, you demon. How would you know if a human was mad or not?"

Hearing that, I began to be very afraid for my young master. I fought myself to a sitting position and grasped his shoulders. "Young master, stop! You mustn't let yourself think like that!"

"That way lays madness?" my master joked. He laughed again and I heard an undertone of hysteria that frightened me even more than his words.

"Enough of this, young master," Marcellus said, stepping forward and reaching for my young master. "Back to bed, now."

My master jerked away and moved closer to me. "Don't touch me!"

Marcellus blinked but recovered his composure. "Young master, you must return to bed. You may choose to go on your own or I will take you. Now, which is it?"

"I choose not to go," my master said. "Leave us, Marcellus."

The air in the room shifted and turned darker. It looked like Marcellus was losing his patience. "You are very good at giving orders, young master, but quite awful at following them. I won't bargain with you or coax you this time. This is your last chance."

"I said leave us!"

For once, I was able to move before Marcellus could. Before he could reach the young master, I was between the two of them, on my feet and determined to fight. Marcellus stared at me, but in the next moment I forgot about him as I felt twin snaps of pain in my legs. I fell to the floor and made the mistake of trying to catch myself with one arm, but I felt an echoing pain as it impacted the floor. I gasped at the agony blossoming in my body and my exhalation was a cry of pain.

"Idiot child!" Marcellus said, lifting me from the floor.

"Sebastian!" the young master cried. "What happened?"

"His bones have re-broken," Marcellus said, sounding disgusted. "You should have known better than to get up!"

"_What_ is going on here? Marcellus, who's this man? Ciel, what are you doing down here?"

Oh, fabulous. Sir Charles had arrived.

"This is Sebastian Michaelis, Master," Marcellus said calmly. "He was injured when I retrieved young master Ciel for you. He is the young master's Phantomhive butler. He is like me, and I felt that I owed him healing after harming him. Forgive me for taking the liberty of bringing him here."

Sir Charles leveled a long look at Marcellus as if he were thinking very hard. "Did you have a good reason to do so, Marcellus?"

"Yes, Master."

"Apparently, killing me would be a waste," I croaked, wishing with all my might that the pain would fade.

"You've only yourself to blame for the pain you're in now," Marcellus chided me. "Use your brain for a moment before you pull another stunt like this, would you?"

I fought down the urge to tell him to shut up. After all, some small measure of decorum was required on my part. Despite the pain I was in and the urge I had to wring Marcellus' neck, I was still the Phantomhive butler. Certain standards of behavior still had to be upheld regardless of how much pain I was in or what my preferences were. Still...it was rather tempting to attempt to wrap my hands around his throat.

"Why did you have him down here, Marcellus?" Sir Charles asked while Marcellus turned to place me back on the bed and wrap me in a blanket so I could get warm.

"This was the only room that wasn't one of the family's rooms that was suitable for a healing demon," he said.

"Would one of the family's rooms work just as well?"

I saw Marcellus' eyebrows rise and I realized that he was just as shocked as I was. A master was suggesting that a butler was to be housed in a wing of the house that usually served only the employer and his family. That just wasn't done in any household of which I was aware. Unthinkable.

"The southwest bedroom," Sir Charles said at last. "It is dark for most of the day and it is quiet. You can put him there. That way, you won't have to run up and down several times a day in order to check on him."

Marcellus bowed his head and tightened his grip on me. "Thank you, Master. That would be most kind of you. That room would be admirable."

"I'm glad," Sir Charles said. "Is he ready to be moved now?"

Marcellus tucked the toy cat the young master had given me into my blanket and I glared at him. What did he think, that I would have nightmares without it? Honestly! (Well, I did want it since it would most likely be the only cat the young master ever gave me, but that was beside the point!) "He's ready now, Master, and thank you again."

Sir Charles nodded and went to my young master. "Ciel, I thought you were told to stay in bed. Why did you come down here?"

"I wanted to see Sebastian," he said quietly. "He's all alone by himself down here, aside from his guard dog."

If I needed further proof that my master was in a dangerous state of mind, this was it. He was quiet, withdrawn, and he was doing his best to make sure that Sir Charles wouldn't be angry with him. I could tell that my master didn't want Sir Charles to leave him alone and saying something that sounded so child-like would bring out the protective parent in Sir Charles, which was what my master wanted in the first place. I was sure that Marcellus had keyed the Influence to either him or Sir Charles or both, which meant that my master would only have relief from it in their presence. Sir Charles looked at me, and I knew I had to say something. "Lumpy's not much company," I muttered, clenching my teeth against the pain as Marcellus lifted me.

Sir Charles stared from me to Lumpy and back. "Lumpy?"

"I suppose I named him that," I admitted.

Sir Charles and the young master were both staring at me. "What is it? He spends most of his time just sitting around like a lump, so I named him..." I stopped. They weren't staring at me, they were staring at Marcellus. I looked up and saw him staring at me with the oddest look on his face. A smile played around his mouth and for a few moments the look in his eyes could almost be called_...soppy_. That expression unsettled me a great deal. "Ah, Marcellus? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, fighting a smile. "That's...well, that was awfully cute, Sebastian."

Fervently, with every part of my whole being, I wished the earth to open up and swallow me whole. Either that, or I wanted to vanish on the spot. "CUTE?"

Marcellus nodded. "Mm-hmm. Your giving him a name like that was just adorable."

I was about to die of embarrassment. Either embarrassment or annoyance. He was implying that the act of my naming the gray one made me cute and adorable! "Will you explain what you're talking about?" I demanded as he carried me toward the door.

"Oh, Sebastian, stop being so dramatic," Marcellus said, his earlier anger replaced by...well, I didn't know. The soppy look was back in his eyes and he was still trying very hard not to smile. "Demons can be cute from time to time, you know."

"If I didn't know that demons can't lose their minds, I'd say yours was long gone," I said as Sir Charles and my young master followed us up the stairs. "Demons are as far from cute as it is possible to be. You should know this!"

"Haven't you ever seen a demon child and thought, 'How cute'?" Marcellus wanted to know.

I groaned. "For the last time, I'M NOT A CHILD!" This was too much to be borne.

Behind us, I could see the young master looking from Marcellus to Sir Charles and back, and his thoughts were plain on his face: _They're two of a kind, this pair. They think we're children. _Technically, the young master was a child, but he tried to conduct himself as an adult, so Sir Charles' treatment of him as a child must be difficult for him to bear.

"Let me carry you, Ciel," I heard Sir Charles say.

"I can walk," my master answered.

"You're ill, Ciel."

I craned my head around to stare at Sir Charles, aghast that I'd missed that. "Again?" How could I have missed it? I could hear it now in his voice, in his breathing, the pallor of his skin...oh, I was a terrible butler.

"You've had quite a lot to think about in the last hour or so, Sebastian," Marcellus said quietly. "Your master is being taken care of very well. You don't have to worry. Right now, I just want you to focus on getting better, little one."

Before I could stop him, his hand came up and brushed my forehead, sending me to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sebastian's POV:

The phrase "cursing like a fiend" is very correct in its meaning. Technically, I'm not a fiend but I came from the same place, so the phrase could be used to describe me when I awoke. I was furious when I woke and I woke cursing. A string of profanity I had rarely allowed myself to use during my lifetime streamed from my mouth as soon as I as conscious. All of it was very base and common, but right now, the words expressed my ire perfectly. I was furious: How dare Marcellus treat me like this, and how _dare_ he treat my master like this?

He must have heard me. His footsteps approached and a door opened, allowing light to stream into the room.

"Good morning, Sebastian," he said, lighting a lamp after closing the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Must you ask?"

"Given what I heard, no," he admitted. "Are you in pain?"

Too late my re-injured legs and arm made themselves felt and the discomfort was so much that I had to admit that, yes, I was in a great deal of pain.

"I've brought a dose of the pain medicine," he said, holding up a cup. "It's a little stronger than before since you've re-injured yourself."

"Ah, before you give me that, could we talk?"

He tilted his head to the side and smiled, much the same way I would smile. "Yes?"

"Why do you persist in treating me like a child? Why have you placed my master under Influence? It's driving him to distraction!" There was something going on here that I couldn't see between Marcellus and I, and whether I liked it or not, it did have some bearing on the situation my master was in. I would have to resolve it if I wished to better his situation, but I had a strong feeling that Marcellus wasn't about to make that easy.

"Sir Charles asked how he could get the young master to willfully seek him out, so I told him that I would take care of it," he answered.

"That wasn't what Sir Charles meant!"

"But it was the most expedient," he said. "Since I am the demon using Influence, he receives relief when I speak, but I have also keyed it to Sir Charles so he will receive relief in his presence as well. I have to admit that it has been effective."

I stared at him. "Effective?"

"The young master insisted on Sir Charles spending almost every moment with him yesterday before his journey down to see you, and after I brought you up here he insisted on Sir Charles spending time with him again. In fact, Sir Charles read to him until he fell asleep and during the night, the young master went to Sir Charles' room and stayed there until this morning."

This I couldn't understand. If Sir Charles was asleep, then he wasn't talking, and didn't the key have to be speaking for the Influenced to get any relief?

"Sir Charles talks in his sleep," Marcellus said, seeing my confused look. "He was very touched when he woke up this morning to find the young master cuddled against him and asleep. He spent close to an hour holding him and watching him sleep."

That madman had _held_ my young master? Oh, I found that disturbing on levels I couldn't even name. "Does my young master know about that?"

"Well, he knew Sir Charles held him; he woke up while he was still being held."

"What did he do?"

Marcellus looked at me. "Who, the young master? Just sat up and said good morning. I could tell he was a bit embarrassed, but he was all right. He went with me to his room and settled back into bed. Now, about your medicine…"

I allowed him to help me sit up and I drank the medicine. I noticed now that I was wearing rather more than I had before. I plucked at the shirt and stared at it.

"You'll be a bit warmer wearing nightclothes, I think," Marcellus said.

I felt my arms and my legs and wondered just what kind of nightclothes had something like corset stays sewn into the limbs. I could feel them around my legs and my re-broken arm. "What…?" I couldn't even think how to frame the question.

"I've put splints on your legs and arm," Marcellus informed me. "Re-breaking your arm and legs has put them at risk for healing crookedly."

Oh, wonderful. More good news. "Will they?"

"If they aren't watched carefully, they will," Marcellus promised. "However, the splints should prevent that. Now, you need to eat."

I groaned. I didn't want him to feed me and to experience the bliss it forced on me. The experience the one being fed had during the process was partly what made it so intimate an experience, and I was not eager to undergo that again. He was supposed to be my enemy, not someone who...well, what would he be to me if he wasn't my enemy? I was past knowing or guessing. Right now, if any relationship existed between us, it was ambiguous due to his actions and our location. "I'm not hungry." I wasn't lying. I truly wasn't hungry. I was _ravenous_.

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

"No, really, I'm not!" I insisted. "You don't have to trouble yourself."

"It is no trouble whatsoever, Sebastian," he said lightly, pulling off his coat and gloves before rolling up his sleeve. He kept his eyes on me as he slashed his wrist and he advanced, holding his arm out to me. "Now, drink."

I tried to shift away from him as much as I could, but before my muscles finished contracting he was on the other side of me, his free arm wrapping around me and holding me against his chest. "Drink, Sebastian," he said. Suddenly his arm was against my mouth and I could taste it. One taste and I surrendered, my almost-healed arm coming up to hold his arm in place while I drank. The taste filled my senses once again and I was helpless. With each swallow I felt my will to resist him dissipate. Slowly I drank my way to satiation and the well-being the feeding always bestowed on me came again.

"There we are," Marcellus said as my jaw relaxed and I let go of him. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Hmmm," I said, once again unable to speak coherently. I could feel what I'd swallowed coursing through my body and I had to admit that once again, the sensation was exquisite. Sometimes, I fell asleep after being fed, but on the times I'd stayed awake, I almost always felt like this. Sometimes I felt a nice hum in my head or I felt warm, but mostly, the experience was similar to this, if not as strong. Idly I reflected that it was a good thing demon blood wasn't an addictive substance.

"Are you sleepy?" Marcellus asked. "I'll put out the lamp if you are."

"No, not sleepy," I murmured. I would be furious with myself if I fell asleep now; I felt far too good to want to sleep. Physical bliss was still rushing through me and even though I hated what the feeding did to me, I wanted to enjoy the effects. Such enjoyable experiences were few and far between in a demon's life, so we were susceptible to them even if they were unwanted. Swallowing a human soul was very pleasurable, which was why we demons craved them so much, and right now the feeding's effects were very similar to that experience.

Tiny stabs of pain in my legs and my arm brought me back to the world and I gasped. I knew I hadn't moved, so why...?

"You shivered," Marcellus said. "That's the first time you did that after a feeding."

I didn't know why, but that bothered me a great deal. "Why did I shiver?"

"I think the shiver was your body trying to relax after all of that sensation," Marcellus explained.

I was sure I was about to die of embarrassment. Not only was I forced to undergo a great deal of unwanted pleasure, but he had been _watching_ me enjoy it. Oh, the humiliation. "Mortified" did not begin to describe how I was feeling. "What was different this time? What did you do?"

He smiled. "I should have known you would notice something was different," he said. "Before I fed you, I swallowed several things that would make the feeding more nourishing for you. I suppose all that extra nutrition made it more enjoyable for the one being fed."

Suddenly, _violently_, I wanted death. Anything was better than this...

Marcellus noticed my expression. "Sebastian, why does my feeding you bother you so much?"

There was no way in this lifetime that I was about to discuss _why_. Didn't he realize that among younger demons this method of feeding me was considered just one short step from...well, one did not discuss such things in a civilized household. "I don't want to talk about it." I doubted that my embarrassment could get worse.

He looked at me, thinking. "Is it because this method of feeding is usually only done between demons who are lovers?"

I was wrong. It could get worse. It just had. "Ah..."

"It's not only lovers who do this," he said calmly. "Parents also do it for their children if the children are injured and in need of healing. Since you are several thousand years younger than I am, in comparison, you are in essence, a child. Since it's rarely needful, you likely won't have heard of that, right?"

I had known that parents would do such a thing for their children. I'd heard mention of it in a book that I'd read when I was still young, but that was entirely beside the point and not worth mentioning now. I had to make him understand... "I'm not your child. Isn't this done usually only between blood relations?" I knew both of my parents. My mother had no siblings and my father had one brother and I had met him. I had met both of my grandfathers. Marcellus was not one of them, so I could not see how he was related to me if he was. Why would someone who was no relation to me be doing this?

"It is," he admitted.

"Then why...no, I know why. You want me to heal quickly. What I fail to understand is why you want me to heal quickly."

"I have my reasons."

Again, that maddening statement! "Well, what on earth _are_ your reasons?" I demanded.

Something about my tone must have touched a nerve. "I'll reveal them when I choose to and not before, Sebastian," he said tersely. "Now, try to rest while I'm gone. I must return to my duties."

I wished I could have thrown something at him. I wished I could have gotten up and thrashed the truth out of him. Such bellicose urges were not something I had often, but in this case I felt they were justified. Even more than that, in Marcellus' case, they were _deserved_.

"Oh, stop glaring at me like that," Marcellus chided, covering me once more with the blankets. "Try to rest. I'll be up later to check on you."

I tried to be gracious, but all I could say was, "Very well." My tone conveyed my displeasure at my situation, but he chose to ignore it. He left, taking the lamp with him, plunging the room into darkness. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep once the silence and darkness calmed me.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

Time passed. After four days in bed and another two days spent on the couch, the relapse ended and I was well at last. I no longer had to spend the day in bed and I no longer had to swallow the medicines Marcellus made for me. I celebrated by getting dressed and insisting that Sir Charles and I spend the day outside. After days and days of seeing nothing but four walls around me, I had to get outside. I was sure that Sebastian felt the same way and suggested to Marcellus that if he could be moved, Sebastian might be brought outside for a while.

"Does he like being outside?" he asked.

"Sometimes we would spend the whole day outside," I answered. It was true, too. Sometimes, such as after several days of rain or work, I insisted on being outside as much as possible. Doing that kept me from going round the bend after being cooped up in the house. "Will you bring him out? Please?" Usually, I wouldn't bother pleading with someone like that, but that was what a child would do. I'd noticed that when I behaved more like a child, then Sir Charles would give me what I wanted or he would order Marcellus to do what I asked. Amazingly, it worked every time, given that what I wanted was something reasonable. It didn't work on things like staying up until midnight or having extra dessert in the place of my vegetables for dinner, but if I wanted Sir Charles to read aloud to me for a while longer or if I wanted Marcellus to tell me a story, then it worked better than a charm.

"If he can be moved, why don't you bring him out, Marcellus?" Sir Charles suggested when he saw the hopeful look on my face.

Marcellus bowed. "Yes, Sir Charles. I won't be long."

"Thank you," I said as soon as Marcellus had gone inside. "I still don't understand why he won't let me visit him. He's still my butler, after all!"

"Marcellus told me that Sebastian needs rest," Sir Charles said. "He wouldn't get that if you visited him each time you asked to do so."

"I kept asking because he wouldn't let me visit him," I pointed out. Since Sebastian had been moved upstairs, I had asked to visit him every time I saw Marcellus, and he'd always said that it wasn't time yet. Well, now I was going to get to see Sebastian whether Marcellus liked it or not. Thank Providence that the madman keeping me prisoner was indulgent!

"Here we are, butler and patient," Marcellus said from the open doorway. In his arms was Sebastian, wrapped up in a black dressing gown and wearing black slippers on his feet.

"Hello, Sebastian," I said as Marcellus put Sebastian down in a lounge chair. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm well and very happy to see you, Bocchan," he said, looking at me. "Are you better?"

"Much, thanks." It was better to be polite. It pleased Sir Charles and if he was happy with me, then he was indulgent and easier to manipulate.

"Thank you for asking that I be brought outside," Sebastian continued. "I was beginning to forget what open sky looked like! Marcellus kept saying that I shouldn't leave my room, but it looks like I've weathered the trip just fine."

I could see Marcellus glaring at the back of Sebastian's head. He still wasn't happy about this. I had a strong suspicion that Marcellus would be having words with him later. Sebastian inquired politely about what I had been doing and he asked Sir Charles how he was before thanking him once again for his quarters.

"It's fine," Sir Charles said. "Having you there will make things easier for Marcellus in the course of his duties and Ciel told me that he's been resting better with you so close to him."

"That's very good to hear," Sebastian said, smiling.

For the next few hours, I spent time with Sebastian and Sir Charles, sitting with them around a table and talking. I chattered about nonsense that would please Sir Charles and asked to play a game with them so my hands would have something to do. Plus, playing a game like that meant that Sir Charles would talk. Marcellus brought lunch and then tea to us at that table as we played round after round of cards, dominoes, and Chinese checkers. I won most of the time, but occasionally Sir Charles would win and Sebastian even won once at dominoes. After a while we stopped with the games and watched the gray ones romping on the lawn. They didn't look like dogs, but they sure acted like it, and they were almost as funny to watch.

"Master, young master," Marcellus said soon after that. "It looks like the weather's changing. We should head inside now."

I looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were moving in and I could tell that it would be one of those penetrating Yorkshire rains that would last a couple of days. "Do we have to?" I whined. I wasn't eager to be sentenced to the house for days on end so soon after just being released from it. "Right now? It's not raining yet!"

"Marcellus is right, Ciel," Sir Charles said after glancing up at the clouds. "It's about to start. Besides, Sebastian's looking tired."

I looked and was shocked to see that he was right. His face was pale and the dark shadows under his eyes had deepened.

"I'm fine," Sebastian said. "For a little while, at least. My sentiments on going inside echo the young master's."

Marcellus, who had been tidying up the games we'd been using, stopped to level a glare at Sebastian. "Sebastian, you'll be going inside in the next few minutes whether you like it or not. You may not feel it now, but you are still weak."

The look in Sebastian's eyes might almost be called defiance as he smiled at Marcellus. "Oh, don't fuss, Marcellus," he said dismissively, smiling. "I'm just fine."

Sir Charles looked back up at the sky as the wind started to blow. "Ah, the argument's become moot, gentlemen," he said. "Marcellus, get Sebastian inside, and Ciel, you go with them. I'll take care of things out here." Just as he finished speaking, fat drops of chilly rain started to fall and I obeyed with alacrity. I wasn't eager to catch a cold just after getting over bronchitis and a relapse.

I got inside just in time to hear Marcellus telling Sebastian off. He was still carrying him, but I recognized a lecture when I heard one.

"...and don't you ever dare defy me like that again!" Marcellus growled as I drew closer. "Especially not in front of Sir Charles or the young master! Do you understand me, Sebastian?"

It was heartening to see that Sebastian wasn't about to take any lecturing. "I am indebted to you for healing me, but I'll remind you that my injuries are your fault in the first place. My gratitude will not go beyond that, and while you may view me as a child, I am not. I do not intend to obey you the way a child would, and as for defying you...Well, let's just say that from this moment on it will be one of my chiefest pleasures."

It was the first time I'd ever heard a demon growl while in their human form. "Sebastian..." Marcellus said, warningly. I had a strong feeling that Sebastian was pushing him too far.

"I will keep up such defiance until you explain things to me," Sebastian threatened. "You expect me to just accept that you have your reasons for what you do, but you have to explain them sooner or later. I have a good hunch, though, that you don't want to. I wonder why that is."

The air around Marcellus shifted and darkened, and I could see his true form. I'd seen Sebastian's only once, when he'd first come to me and we'd formed the contract, but now I knew why he was careful to remain in his human form around me. A demon's true form was terrifying, and it took all I had not to break and run.

Sebastian looked past Marcellus' shoulder and saw me. "Young master!"

Immediately, Marcellus' true form was gone, and he turned to regard me with a cool, level gaze that gave nothing of his anger away. "My apologies if you saw that, young master. Your Sebastian is being less than cooperative with me of late."

To deny that I hadn't seen it and that I hadn't been afraid would have been lying, and both of them knew when a human lied to them. "It's all right, Marcellus. You sound surprised that Sebastian doesn't wish to be cooperative."

Marcellus blinked. I could tell that he hadn't been expecting that, and for a moment his eyes glowed with demon light. _ I could tell what he was thinking: Not only is this upstart demon defying me, but this puny human is, as well. Unbelievable._

"It's a pity, that," I continued. "Then again, if I order him to, he could behave even worse. He is still my butler, and of course, he and I still have a contract. He's bound to obey my orders. At the same time, I could stop cooperating, as well. Whatever you've done to me by making these hear these voices, remember that I am still Ciel Phantomhive, and I don't like to lose. Being challenged might surprise me for a short time, but it always makes me fight harder. Between the two of us, you might never have a moment's peace again."

His eyes continued to glow as Sebastian looked very proud of me, but a second later they faded to their usual shade.

"Marcellus, what are you on about?" Sir Charles asked as he came inside, carrying the games we'd been using. "Why isn't Sebastian back up in bed where he can rest?"

Marcellus nodded his head. "My apologies, Master. I was merely speaking with the young master. I shall return in a moment."

"See that you do, Marcellus," Sir Charles said. "Once you get Sebastian settled, bring some hot drinks to the library. I didn't like Ciel being out in that wind. Ciel, I'll take these back to your nursery and then we'll curl up in the library with a good story, hm? I'll read to you."

I smiled. "That sounds nice." I gave a smile to Marcellus too, one that would remind him of what I'd told him. He simply nodded his head and carried Sebastian upstairs, while Sir Charles urged me to go sit by the fire in the library. I went, more than happy to have a chance to collect my thoughts. I had a good feeling that the proverbial line in the sand had been drawn between Marcellus and I, but what would result from either of us crossing that line...well, it was too soon to know.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sebastian's POV:

Marcellus kept his eyes on me while he carried me up the stairs and while he settled me back in bed. Usually, such an action implied a challenge, but in this case, I doubted it meant that. No, he was staring at me for another reason, one that I knew I wouldn't like. However, he didn't speak and he gave nothing of his thoughts away.

"Go to sleep, Sebastian," he said at last while putting me to bed, pulling the comforter over me. "Rest, little one."

If he'd said anything else, I might have done as he said. Instead, my temper snapped. "Stop treating me like a child!" I'd had more than I could bear of this situation.

He didn't answer. Instead, he put his hand on my forehead and forced sleep on me. I fought it as long as I could, watching him warily, but I only saw him stand by my bed, watching me. Once again, his eyes didn't leave my face.

When I woke, the room was dark and quiet, and I was oh, so tired and relaxed. The dark and silence had relaxed me and I was nice and warm, but I knew that I wasn't alone. I had sensed his presence as soon as I opened my eyes. I shifted, wishing that I could get up. "Marcellus?"

"I'm here," I heard him say as he approached my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right," I said. I had more important things on my mind than how I was feeling right now. "How is the young master?"

Marcellus chuckled. "He is fine. He is deep in a game of chess with Sir Charles."

I felt rather sorry for Sir Charles. What masochistic impulse had prompted him to take the young master on in chess? Shouldn't he have his butler on hand to console him for a thoroughly bitter defeat?

Something about his presence in my room struck me as strange. "Why are you here, Marcellus?" Didn't he have duties to perform or something? Didn't he have to attend Sir Charles? Why was he just…standing there?

"I wanted to be here, Sebastian," he said evenly. "I think this is where I need to be right now."

I didn't understand his statement, but it made me more nervous than anything else he could have said. Why that was, I didn't know, but I did know that I was worried.

"I'll read to you until it is time for me to go and prepare supper," he said. "You slept the rest of yesterday and all through the night. Now, what shall I read?"

How strange! Yesterday, he'd been ready and more than willing to swat me upside the head, and today, he was amiable and willing to read to me. Incredible. Demons were incapable of becoming mad, so that wasn't a possible explanation for his behavior. For a moment I wished that he could be mad, since then I would have had a reason for this irrational behavior on his part.

"Have you read the Brontes, Sebastian?" he asked, lighting some more candles so he could see to read.

"It's been some time," I admitted. Often, when I had some free time and nothing pressing with which to fill it, I spent time in the library, reading. I'd looked into each book in the library once and by this point, I'd read most of them. I'd enjoyed reading the Brontes' novels during one blustery week end and I still held a certain fondness for them.

"Any favorites?"

"_Jane Eyre_," I said immediately. I didn't know why, but aside from her sister Emily's work, Charlotte's _Jane Eyre_ was the most believable story I'd ever read, especially for one penned by a human. The author's insight into the human psyche was incredibly sharp and at the same time, illuminating. The entire work was fascinating.

Marcellus gave me an indulgent smile and pulled a book from the pile on the table and opened it after taking a seat in the chair next to my bed. "Jane Eyre, Chapter 1," he read. "There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning…"

I was content enough to settle back in my pillows to listen and experience Jane's story once again. A life with unloving relatives, a sentence to a dreary and strict boarding school run by a self-righteous and hypocritical religious man, a teaching post in an isolated house, a mercurial master (in that one particular, Jane's and my stories matched), and an odd presence that lurked in the halls of Thornfield, leaving flames behind it. Ah, such stories were part of the reason why I found humans so interesting.

I listened to Jane's story, content for the moment, but it wasn't long before my mind began to work. Why had Marcellus' mood changed so quickly? Why was he so glad to read to me after threatening me the day before? Was he planning something? I had to think so, but once again, I ran up against my old stumbling block. I didn't know how he thought. I couldn't tell what he was thinking now and I couldn't tell what he was planning. I had no way of guessing what he was going to do next. What could I do?

Nothing, apparently. Blazes. Even if I could stand, I would have no hope of overcoming Marcellus if the situation called for my challenging him. He was powerful. I knew that already. His true form had revealed how far his power went, and it was fully possible that even if I were at my peak, he would defeat me. Even if my master ordered me to win in a struggle against him, it was fully possible that my prevailing over him would cost me my life despite any victory on my part. I had no hope of even being able to challenge him in my current condition; I was far too weak. If I died...Oh, I didn't want to consider it. When we demons died, then that was it. In exchange for eternal life, we could hope for no afterlife. For us, this was our afterlife. Some of us had previously lived in other forms and had become demons through various circumstances, but in my case, I had been born as a demon. That meant that this life was the only one I had. I had never planned on risking my life by challenging a higher demon, but now, I was in some sort of struggle that could lead to a challenge. What should I do? What _could_ I do?

"Stop that."

I blinked and came back to myself. "What?"

"Stop fretting yourself into a knot," Marcellus said, setting aside the book. "What's worrying you?"

I wasn't about to tell him. If I mentioned any of my worries, he could easily use them against me in some way. "Ah, I don't want to talk about it. Why did you stop reading?"

"I noticed that you were fretting," Marcellus told me. "I won't continue reading until you tell me what's wrong."

"Then you might as well put the book back on the shelf," I snapped. Why must he keep _on_ like this?

Marcellus considered me thoughtfully. "I bet I can guess."

"Oh, really?"

He nodded. "You're worried about the young master and your ability to defend him should it come to a fight between us."

I wondered once again if he had the ability to read minds. "You sound very sure of yourself."

"You get an odd crease between your eyebrows when you worry about the young master," he said, pointing to the corresponding spot on his own face. "Then, when you worry about fighting me, the corners of your mouth turn down. This time, you had both, so I figured that you were worrying about both."

Damn him, he was right! I would have to make sure that the inscrutable face I tried to present to the world really _was_ inscrutable!

"Humans wouldn't notice such small changes, but I can see them," Marcellus said.

I glared at him. "Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop _doing_ that!"

"What, surprising you? I'm not certain if I can, but I will try my best if it truly bothers you. Now, would you like me to keep reading?"

"Please," I said after considering a moment. "That would be nice, thank you."

I let my eyes close while I listened, and soon I was immersed in Jane's story again. At the part where Jane and Helen discuss the nature of God, Marcellus stopped and gave a chuckle.

"What's so funny about that passage?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Something about Helen's faith reminded me of an argument I once heard between two men about whether or not God existed," he said. "At the time I remembered thinking that they were idiots for ignoring something so obvious."

"Well, of course such a person exists," I said, surprised into speaking. "All demons know that. He created the angels, even the ones who turned against him. Also, we are damned to eternal lives and trying to feed ourselves off of human souls. That's proof as well. Such as we are not accepted in Heaven."

"Yes, that's true," Marcellus said. "I've often thought that it would be a great joke on demonkind and Lucifer if God did something that purified and sanctified us all in the end."

"What, forcible salvation? Don't be ridiculous."

"He is powerful enough for that, Sebastian. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, but why would God wish to do such a thing? Lucifer turned his back on Heaven and so did we."

"But he could do it, if he wished to," Marcellus said. "He is powerful enough to end everything. It would be interesting, wouldn't it, to see it happen on the final day? The Devil wouldn't know what hit him."

I had to admit that that was most likely true. He really wouldn't, but still, I couldn't conceive of how it would happen. Maybe that was why God was God and we lived here on earth. We had little to no chance of understanding or anticipating him.

Oh, how that thought sounded familiar.

"Enough of philosophy and suppositions for right now," he said, glancing at his pocket watch. "Ah, I have to prepare supper. You'll be able to hold this book with one hand. Would you like to continue reading?"

"Yes, please." Anything to distract myself, if just for a little while. Marcellus told me that he would check on me again in a few hours and to enjoy the book. I was happy enough to read once more about Jane and her story. When I reached the part where Jane became the governess to Adele Varens, I found my thoughts wandering to my young master. How was he faring with only Sir Charles for company?

I forced myself to focus on the book, reminding myself that if I spent too much time worrying then my healing would slow. I read for another few pages but had to stop. My mind was too preoccupied with Marcellus' behavior. Something about it reminded me of _something_, something I was sure was very important, but what _was_ it? It was something do with demons...of that, I was sure. Had he been watching me sleep, or had his presence in my room when I woke signified something else? I had to think that it was the latter. If he'd been in my room while I was asleep, then what was his purpose? I knew as much about demons as anyone else, but oh, how I wished I could remember things better! Sighing, I set the book aside and began to consider everything about his behavior and the way he'd watched me. I was sure that eventually, the answer would come to me.

Mention of Rochester's demonic wife and her crazed eyes were what did it. For a few seconds, I simply stared off into space as my mind raced, but then I had to accept what my mind was telling me. If what I thought were true, then the young master and I were in a great deal of trouble.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

I wondered if one could lose his mind due to a geography lesson.

It had started out innocently enough. Sir Charles had decided to give me a geography lesson on Africa. Aside from the colonies of different nations in the area, I knew little about it or its geography. Of course, that meant we had to cover absolutely everything about the continent. An hour later I was considering homicide. I had a strong feeling that the circumstances were mitigating ones!

"Ciel, are you paying attention?"

I fought down the urge to throttle him. "Yes. You were saying?"

He gave me a long look. "What was I saying?"

Uh-oh. I took a wild guess. "Timbuktu?"

He sighed. "Timbuktu was a desert and a river ago," he said. "Maybe we should take a break."

Finally! "I'd like a break. I can't keep focused." Idly, I wondered how Soma and Agni were doing, but then I shook myself out of it, amazed. I _had_ to have been bored.

"Are you feeling all right?"

I wondered what I should say. _No, I'm bored out of my mind. I'd like to throttle you for boring me so much. _No, that didn't seem to convey my full feelings. _Why are you still keeping me here, you demented madman?_ That seemed more akin to my feelings. I had thought I would be away from this place by now, yet I was still (_still!_) here! "I guess I have a bit of a headache." That was true. I had an almost constant headache from those whispers that were still plaguing me. I'd learned to live with them, but I still preferred to be in Sir Charles' company as much as possible.

It was as if I'd uttered a magic incantation. Immediately, Sir Charles was all solicitation and concern, ushering me to my room so I could stretch out on my bed and relax. I couldn't believe that one mention of a headache could turn this man into a devoted nurse! He was either a devoted nurse, or a golden retriever. Over the next twenty minutes, he fetched me a cool drink, hot willowbark tea, a snack, a warm compress for my head, the phonograph, and a record of soothing Brahms music.

"Shouldn't Marcellus be doing that for you?" I asked when he brought me the snack.

"I'm happy to do this for you," Sir Charles said. "When I first lost you, I thought about all the times I would never be able to fuss over you when you were ill."

"Didn't you get enough of doing that while I was ill?" I asked.

"Not nearly enough," he said. "I want to spend the rest of my life fussing over you, Ciel. I want to make you happy and make sure that you have a good life."

The intensity in his tone made me nervous. If sacrificing his life would benefit me, then I was sure he wouldn't hesitate to do it. Also, there was something about the way he looked at me that reminded me all too forcefully that no, he wasn't quite sane. Oh, he could appear sane, but he wasn't. I couldn't afford to forget that again. I lay on my bed and pretended to be sleepy, settling into the pillows with a small sigh of relief. Despite being a prisoner, I had to admit that it was a luxurious confinement, and the bed only proved it. A featherbed mattress cover, Egyptian cotton and silk comforter, and lots of feather pillows gave me a very comfortable bed, and sleeping in it or lying on it was absolute bliss. While I'd been ill, being in bed hadn't been that bad aside from the boredom. When Sebastian and I returned home, I would have to see to it that I obtained a featherbed like this one and once again, I marveled that I had never thought to try one before this.

I didn't know when I fell asleep, but I woke up and the room was dim. Sir Charles wasn't there and the whispers were what had woken me. Sighing, I left the bed, pulled on my shoes, and went in search of him. He wasn't in the study, parlor, or the library. Perhaps his bedroom? I turned toward it, but then I remembered that I hadn't seen Sebastian since his trip outside. I should check up on him, at the very least.

To say that he was glad to see me was a vast understatement. His face broke out into a smile as soon as he saw me. "Bocchan!"

"Hello, Sebastian," I said, taking a seat in the chair next to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm healing," he said, relief written on every part of his face. "Are you all right, Bocchan?"

"Tolerable." I glanced at him and saw that he was still smiling. "What's wrong with you? You never smile this much!" In all truth, it was starting to make me as nervous as Sir Charles did.

"I'm just relieved to see you," he said, the smile fleeing his face. "I was afraid that I wouldn't see you before...well...hmm. I don't quite know how to tell you this, but I think Marcellus is planning something."

"That's no surprise," I said. "Do you know what it is?"

"It's something particular to demons," he said. "I think he may be planning to put me in thrall to him."

I stared at him. "Can demons do that to one another?"

"The higher orders can. Marcellus is what one could call either a 'duke' or 'prince' demon, and he would certainly have the power to do so."

I blinked. I knew that demons differed in power, but this was the first I'd heard of there being an actual ranking system. "What rank are you?"

"Marquis. That means that I'm more powerful than a good many demons, but there are still demons more powerful than I."

I nodded. "So, what does it mean for one demon to put another in thrall?"

"It means absolute obedience from the one in thrall," he said flatly. "I would have to obey his orders, even if that meant I had to disobey you."

I was staring again. "You would actually have to disobey me? Wouldn't that break our contract?"

"It would shatter it," he admitted. "Since no demon's ever broken a contract they had with a human master, I don't know what would happen to either of us if I broke it. I have a strong feeling that the Fates would not look kindly on someone who broke a contract, even if I was forced to do it."

I couldn't believe that I was hearing this. Sebastian actually sounded afraid! "What else does being in thrall mean?"

"It's somewhat similar to having a contract with a human, except that I would be the 'human,' so to speak," he stated. "I would never be able to hide from him since he would always be able to find me. It doesn't matter how far I travel or where I go, he would know where I was. He could either go to where I was, or he could compel me to go to him. If he ordered me to do something, then I would have to do it. There is no way a demon in thrall to another could resist. Also, he would know constantly how I am physically. He could tell if I was injured or ill, how much energy I have, and so on. I would be able to hide nothing from him, and he would know my strength at all times. If I tried attacking him or attempted to protect you from him, he could stop me with a word."

I thought about this. "What led you to believe that he was planning to do this?"

"He spends a great deal of time here when I'm asleep, and he rarely takes his eyes from me. When I was young, I'd learned about being in thrall and while it's taken me some time to remember all I'd learned about it, one of the ways a demon prepares to put another in thrall is by watching him as much as possible. Something about a demon's eyes on another demon prepares that one for thrall."

"Is it possible to break away from being in thrall?" I asked. I refused to believe that Marcellus...wait, I had to believe it, for my sake and Sebastian's.

"I've never heard of someone doing so," he confessed. "The only way I know of to end thrall is if the demon who put it in place ends it, but I doubt Marcellus will do that."

I doubted it, too. "Hmmm. This could be..."

"Bad," Sebastian said flatly. "Very, very bad, young master. It's so bad that it frightens me even to think about it. If he puts me in thrall, I may never be free again, and I may very well lose you. He could even use thrall to shatter my mind and use me against you in some way. Right now, you and I are both in danger."

I nodded. I could see that he believed it wholeheartedly and I could see that he was indeed frightened. I had never, ever seen him afraid. Not like this. I'd seen him worried on occasion and preoccupied, but not frightened. Some humanitarian impulse prompted me to take his hand, wrapping it in both of mine, the same way a parent would hold a child's hand when he is frightened of something. My action surprised Sebastian so much that he turned and stared at me. "Bocchan?"

"It will be all right, Sebastian," I said, and the irony in my situation was not lost on me. I was actually comforting a demon, who shouldn't need such comfort from his prey. "I know it seems hopeless, but I'm sure it will be fine."

"I don't see how," he said doubtfully.

My mind was working furiously, weighing several scenarios and possible outcomes. "I think it will," I repeated. "Sebastian, I have an order for you."

He looked at me. "I hope I'm able to obey it, Bocchan."

"Oh, you will be," I said. Really, this was the only option we had. I leaned close and whispered my order to him, and I could tell that it surprised him. His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up, and he stared hard at me for a moment. Then, he smiled.

"Yes, my lord."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Here's the next chapter. The first part is from Sebastian's POV and the second is from Ciel's POV.

Chapter 12

Sebastian's POV:

Now that I had a possible idea of what Marcellus was planning, I could make plans of my own. Well, almost. I could at least think about the situation and imagine possible scenarios and various ways in which I could fight back, but unless I healed quickly, that was an impossibility.

Suddenly, I felt a new enthusiasm for the "meals" Marcellus gave me. It was true that they helped me heal faster since I could feel my healing increase after he fed me, so I gave only a token argument when he came to feed me. Most often, I just limited my protests to a weary sigh or a glare, but I allowed him to feed me and I could feel myself healing. It wasn't long before I could feel that my broken bones were back to the point they'd been before I'd broken them again.

Marcellus seemed to realize this, too, since he began checking on me several times a day, running his hands over the breaks each time. His doing that actually helped me relax more than once, but why that was, I wasn't sure. One thing I was sure of was that he hadn't put me in thrall yet. _Yet._ I knew that when one demon put another into thrall there was some discomfort or illness for the one undergoing thrall, but that hadn't happened. Instead, I felt better than I had in a while, almost since before his attack on the Phantomhive estate.

The young master visited me once in the morning and once in the afternoon every day after I told him what Marcellus was planning. Mostly, our conversations consisted of my listening to him pacing for a few minutes before I reported anything that I'd observed. Usually such meetings ended with my reminding him not to hesitate to escape and not wait for me if the chance was offered him. I was worried about the effect Marcellus' Influence was having on him, but typically, he told me not to worry.

"I think I've gotten the trick to ignoring them," he told me one afternoon when I voiced my fears for him.

"You have?"

He gave me a very cool look. "You sound as if you doubt I can do such a thing."

"Not at all," I hastened to tell him. "It's just that they were affecting you a great deal. Weren't you tired?" How on earth had he found the energy to figure out a way of ignoring them?

"Right now I'm more exhausted than I can say," he sighed. "I could go to sleep right here and I would be perfectly happy to do so, but I can't spend all my time asleep."

"So how did you do it?"

He smirked at me. "You sound impressed."

"I am, actually," I admitted. "As far as I know, you're the only human to have figured out a way to keep them from bothering you."

"You're laboring under a misapprehension, then, Sebastian," he said. "They still bother me. It's just that I've found a way to keep them from driving me mad."

"How?"

He picked up a book from my bedside table and began to flip the pages back and forth. "What's this? Shakespeare?"

"Marcellus thought I would like to read some of the plays again," I explained.

By this point he was turning the pages slowly, reading a line here or there. "Do you have a favorite play?"

"Oh, several. The one that I enjoy the most would have to be 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'."

I could tell that my choice of favorites surprised him. "Why?"

I couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Why, young master, you do not care for it?"I asked, my tone light and mocking.

"Honestly," he huffed. "It's a silly play, with these four mixed-up lovers and a couple of fairies quarreling over a boy and those ridiculous players. I'm amazed you care for such tripe."

Tripe? The young master had such strong opinions! "Tripe? Not at all, young master. What is better than a happy ending for all concerned? The lovers get to marry whom they love, the fairies resolve their disagreement, and the players get to perform their play."

"Badly," he added. "Like I said, tripe."

"But it has such lovely speeches," I continued. "I know a bank where the wild thyme blows..."

"Yes, yes, you don't have to give me Oberon's speech; you're formidable enough." He put the book down and gave me a sour look. "I still think that play is one that should have been lost."

"I think it's endured because it's pure, light-hearted entertainment," I pointed out.

"Pure?" he scoffed. "Sebastian, this is Shakespeare we're talking about. Use your wits."

I chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're right." In some cases, the Bard of Avon could almost be called the Bard of Bawd, but that really wasn't important. "You were about to tell me how you ignore the whispers when we got side-tracked."

"Well, Shakespeare actually ties into it," my young master said. "A few nights ago I noticed that the whispers follow iambic pentameter. I was reading and a few lines from one Shakespeare's sonnets were inserted into the text of the chapter. While I read the lines, I noticed that the rhythm of the sonnet was the same as the rhythm of the whispers."

I was beginning to get a glimmer of what he'd done. How very ingenious! "Really?"

He nodded. "Now, whenever they become too much of a bother, I start reciting one of the sonnets to myself. While I concentrate on the sonnet, their noise fades a little until they're little more than a buzz in the back of my head."

"I'm very impressed," I said, and I meant it wholeheartedly. "Marcellus has a challenging opponent in you, young master."

"The challenge goes both ways, as I'm sure it does for you two," he said. "Has he done anything we should be concerned about?"

"Nothing yet," I answered. "He comes, talks to me, checks my injuries, feeds me, and helps me attend to things that are needful. After that, he usually sends me to sleep or leaves me to fall asleep on my own. The only thing that's changed is that he keeps his eyes on me."

"And that's how thrall begins?"

"No, that's how one demon prepares another demon for thrall," I clarified. "Thrall begins...well, I've never experienced it, but I've heard that it isn't pleasant." Now that I thought of it, I didn't know exactly how thrall began. I couldn't tell if there was a ritual he needed to perform first or if eye contact was all that was needed to begin. I knew that I would be in trouble the moment I couldn't take my eyes away from his gaze. A demon who couldn't look away from the eyes of another demon was a demon who was about to be put in thrall.

The thought gave me chills.

"If he does put you into thrall, then you have your orders," my young master said.

"Yes, my lord," I said. I had them and it was possible that they were the only thing that would save us if I were forced by Marcellus to disobey my master.

My master was looking at me, looking from one arm to the other and back again. "Which arm is your good arm?"

"My left. Why?"

He didn't answer me, but I received quite a shock when he climbed onto the bed next to me and put my good arm around himself before leaning against me. "Young master?"

"It's nothing important," he said testily. "I'm just fooling myself, that's all. Sir Charles is a madman and something like this would only encourage his fantasies further, and I'm not about to ask Marcellus for a hug."

"So you'd rather show weakness in front of me?" It was a dangerous thing to do. Surely he remembered that I was a predator and he was my prey, and only the terms of the contract kept me from consuming him?

"The contract keeps me safe, and like I said, I'm fooling myself. I know I'm not safe in this house and I know you won't hesitate to swallow my soul once I have my revenge, but you're the safest person around right now. I know you'll protect me due to the contract, and that knowledge is helping me fool myself that I'm safe for the time being. All this time I've spent being this vigilant...it's tired me out. I'm used to keeping up my vigilance due to the enemies I have, but I usually get to relax once in a while. I don't know how you remain so vigilant for my safety all the time."

"There are times when you don't make it easy," I joked. "So, having a hug from me makes you feel better?"

"Mmm," he agreed. "You could be vigilant for a time while I have a rest."

I heard the hint. "Yes, my lord." I was more than happy to do so. It was my job to serve and protect him, after all. That was stipulated in the contract. It would actually be nice to fulfill my duties in some small way.

He shifted. "I can hear your heart beating."

This was unexpected. Were my ears fooling me, or did he sound half-asleep? "Can you?"

"Mm-hmm. 'Sloud."

My master always tried to behave like an adult, but there were times when his child's nature showed through. It seemed this was one of them. "What does it sound like?"

He shifted his head. "Hmm. A human heart, mostly. You have to fool people, after all. I wasn't really aware that demons could have hearts until that first time you held me. I heard it then, too."

I was amazed that he'd taken note of such a thing. The first time I'd held him had been immediately after the deaths of his tormentors, and he'd been in some state akin to shock. I could remember how much he shook and how his teeth chattered, and I'd hurried to get him away from there to someplace warm. I'd carried him in my arms close to my chest, but I'd thought his mental state had kept him unaware of what was going on. Interesting.

"You're much the same as you were then," he murmured. "Humans change as the years pass, but you haven't."

"My hair's a little longer," I protested. "Surely that counts as change?"

"Maybe. You're warm. You were warm then, too."

He had to have been sleepy. He'd never say such things while fully awake.

"Cinnamon."

That was such a non sequitir that I looked down at him. His eyes were closed and his face and body were relaxed, so did that mean he was asleep? "Pardon, my lord?"

"You smell like cinnamon. Maybe a little like woodsmoke, too. 'Snice."

Such a statement on his part proved that he was so close to asleep that it was a non-issue. Later, if he asked me if he'd talked while he slept, I would have to admit that he had (since I didn't lie) but I would tell him that what he'd said was nonsense. In essence, it was, after all. That way, his dignity would remain intact and I would be spared the embarrassment of telling him what he'd said. His hearing it would be uncomfortable for the both of us. I shifted the blanket so that it would cover him as well; my master's being a little warmer would ensure that he would truly go to sleep instead of remaining in this odd half-state he was in now.

"Marcellus is all woodsmoke," I heard as I settled the blanket over him. "Maybe some sandalwood." I looked at his face and saw a tiny furrow between his eyebrows. "He's always picking me up and such ridiculous things. Wish he'd quit."

_I _wished he'd quit, too. Who did he think he was, manhandling my young master like that? How dare he!

"Scone..."

Ah, something sweet. Just like my master to slip into a dream about something sweet. He adored cream scones with their buttery flavor, with either fruit preserves on the side or with sugar crystals baked into their tops for breakfast. I'd made such scones for him many times. For tea, however, he preferred them with a little lemon curd...

My door opened, revealing Marcellus. "Oh, there he is. Is he all right?"

"He's asleep," I whispered. I hoped he'd take a hint and allow my master to continue with his nap, although I found it worrisome just how quickly he'd fallen asleep. He must have been bone-tired.

"It's time for tea," he said. "I'm sure he won't want to miss it since he ate only a little at lunch. We have Earl Grey from Jackson's of Piccadilly, watercress, ham, and cucumber sandwiches, and scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam."

My master twitched in his sleep, but he stayed asleep. "You'd have better luck with lemon curd."

Marcellus blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Mmmm," my master sighed, shifting his head so that it rested on my shoulder. If Sir Charles could have seen him, the poor man would have lost his mind again at how...(yes, it had to be said) cute my master appeared. "Use Keemun with the Herend Chinoiserie."

I almost laughed. Apparently, he was _dreaming_ about tea. Talk of my cinnamon scent must have triggered the dream. Sometimes he asked for cinnamon scones instead of cream scones. The look of confusion on Marcellus' face almost pushed me over the edge into full, loud laughter. He looked at my master and I could tell he was thinking very hard.

"He's dreaming about tea?" he said at last in disbelief.

"Apparently," I said.

Marcellus shook his head. "Well, of all things." He stopped and looked at my master again. "You know, if Sir Charles saw him right now..."

"Let's not call Sir Charles." That was the _last_ thing I wanted.

"He would be overwhelmed by cuteness into incoherency," Marcellus chuckled. "He spent about fifteen tongue-tied minutes when he woke up the other day and found the young master cuddled against him, much like he's cuddled against you now."

I fought down a snarl. I still felt that Sir Charles was encroaching on territory that did not belong to him. I looked down at my young master and only then did I see how pale he was, how drawn and tired. He looked as if he needed several good meals and about three days in bed.

"Now you see why I'm so eager to get him to tea," Marcellus said, noticing what I'd noticed. "His appetite's been off."

My master's appearance had me ready to beg, if need be. "Marcellus, he's exhausted. Must you continue to use Influence?"

Marcellus tilted his head to the side and considered my question. "It's no longer necessary in some respects, I think. In others, it may be."

"But why?" I demanded. "You have him exhausted and half-distracted, and he spends nearly all his time with Sir Charles. What else could it accomplish?"

Marcellus leveled a look at me. "That remains to be seen, Sebastian," he said. "Now, I would like to take the young master down to his tea."

I tightened my grip, unwilling to let my young master go, and my action woke him.

"What's going on?" he said sleepily. "Sebastian?"

"Marcellus is here, and he would like you to go to tea," I told him.

"If there aren't scones with lemon curd, I don't want any tea," he muttered.

The look on Marcellus' face was priceless and I had quite a bit of trouble keeping myself under control.

"There are scones, young master, and I'm sure I can manage lemon curd," Marcellus said with dignity. "Would you please come? Sir Charles is wondering what has happened to you."

My master sighed, but I heard his stomach growl. "Very well, Marcellus. Sebastian, I will come back to see you later."

I smiled. "Very good, my lord."

* * *

Ciel's POV:

"Hello, Ciel!" Sir Charles said as Marcellus led me into the conservatory. A full tea service had been set up and I could smell the scones. "I sent Marcellus off to find you. Where on earth were you for so long?"

"I was visiting Sebastian so he wouldn't be lonely," I said, keeping my voice light.

"I hope you weren't overtiring him," Sir Charles told me.

"I've told him to let me know when he gets tired," I said as I took my seat at the table. "That way, I can still visit him but he gets the rest he needs."

"That's very good of you, Ciel. You're very kind," he said, passing me the rack of sandwiches. "I hope you're hungry; Marcellus has produced a small feast."

I took a sandwich to be polite and then helped myself to a scone. I hoped the lemon curd would be forthcoming. "I'm a little hungry."

"Well, make sure you have a good tea. What would you like to do after tea?"

I stared at him. "Don't you have to work?" That was the usual routine; he would work and I would stay in his office with him or I would spend some time in my room.

"I finished everything early so you and I could have some fun," he said chummily. "So, what would you like to do?"

I thought about it. What would I like to do? Hmm. What I would have liked most was to go to the small village I knew was located a few miles away. I was tired of seeing nothing but the house and the grounds and no other faces aside from those of Sir Charles, Marcellus, and even Sebastian. I wanted to see other people and I wanted to walk the village streets and hear life all around me. Here, it was too easy to feel as if I and those around me were the only people in the world.

"You want to go to the village?" Sir Charles said, sounding shocked.

I stared at him. Oh, God, had I said that out loud? I'd never so much as mentioned the village before because I had a strong hunch that Sir Charles would not take it well. Usually, I enjoyed being right, but this was one time when I could have lived without it. "It was just a thought," I said, hoping I could calm him down.

"This seems to have come out of nowhere rather suddenly," Sir Charles said, fixing me with a steely look. "Do you know what would happen if strangers saw you? Do you think they would allow me to keep you?"

"You're the local peer," I reminded him. "Surely no one in the village would interfere in your affairs."

His fist came down on the table, making the tea service clatter. "That didn't stop them from stealing you away from me before!" he shouted, lurching out of his chair and clamping his hands around my shoulders and shaking me. "Who gave you the idea to visit the village? Who have you been talking to?"

"No one!" I shouted back. "There's no one else here!"

"Don't lie to me, Ciel!" he roared.

"I'm not lying!" I cried, trying to break his grip. "Let go!"

"Were you speaking to those tradesmen who were here yesterday?" he demanded. "Were they the ones who gave you the idea to visit the village?"

"I didn't talk to _anyone_!" I shouted.

"Master, he couldn't have done so," Marcellus said calmly. "He was with you the whole time while I was speaking with the tradesmen."

For the first time, I was truly, deeply, and profoundly grateful for Marcellus. I saw sense creep slowly back into Sir Charles' eyes and he relaxed. "No, you're right, Marcellus. I'm sorry, Ciel." His hands loosened and dropped from my shoulders.

As soon as he let go of me, I was out of my chair and running.

"Ciel!"

I didn't even know which direction I was heading in, if I was striking out into the grounds or heading back toward the house, but I only knew I had to get away. He was mad and dangerous, and the pain pulsing in my shoulders let me know that he could hurt me in his madness.

"Ciel, stop!"

There was no way in this lifetime I was stopping. Marcellus would have to break my legs to keep me from going anywhere. I kept running, pushing myself harder and harder, hoping that I could get away...Two gray ones appeared in front of me and I slid to a halt, turning myself at the same time so I could shoot off in another direction. I kept running, and whenever I met a gray one I simply went in another direction. I did this so many times that I was completely lost...I was still very lost when I slammed into someone's waistcoat.

"Oof!" Sir Charles said, wrapping his arms around me. "Ciel! Didn't you hear me telling you to stop?"

"Let go!" I shouted. "Let go of me!" I could feel myself shaking all over and the last thing I wanted at the moment was for him to have his hands on me.

"Ciel, calm down," he said. "Please calm down, now."

"LET GO!" I screamed, fighting to get away from him. "Let go of me! You're not my father, I'm not your son and I don't want to be here anymore! You're nothing but a madman who thinks I'm his son! Let me go!"

Sir Charles looked furious. "What did you say?"

"You heard me!" I shouted. "Let go!"

One of his hands locked around my arm in an iron grip and he began to pull me. Only then did I see that I'd been herded by the gray ones back toward the house and we were now near the terrace. He dragged me up the stairs and into the house, all the way growling things under his breath. I could only hear snatches of it as he pulled me down the main hall and up the staircase, and it sounded like he was saying, "I've worked to hard and too long to bring him home. I'm not going to lose him again!"

I could barely keep on my feet by the time we reached my room, and he threw my door open with so much force that it struck the wall behind it. In a second he'd lifted me and almost threw me onto my bed. Once again, his hands latched onto my shoulders and shook me.

"Stop!" I shouted, fighting to get away from him. "Let me go!"

"Quiet!" he hissed, his grip on my shoulders almost painful. "You will never run from me again, Ciel, do you understand? Never!"

I froze. I'd dealt with a few madmen in the course of my duties for the Queen, and I could tell that in his current state, he was very dangerous. He could very well kill me if I said or did the wrong thing. "I-I-I un-understand," I stammered.

"Are you going to run away from me again?" he demanded.

"N-no," I choked. "I'll stay! Please! Please don't be mad at me anymore! You're scaring me, Papa!"

Once again, I'd shocked him. He stared at me and the fury faded from his face. I was just as shocked as he was since I hadn't intended to say anything of the kind. Calling him "Papa" or "Father" would have only played into his fantasies and I'd had no intention of doing anything so foolish, but the word had just slipped out.

"Ciel..." he breathed, his arms wrapping around me in a hug. "You called me 'Papa'! You called me 'Papa'!"

I couldn't speak and I suddenly had no energy to fight him, so I let him hold me.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me, Ciel," he said, still cuddling me. "Oh, my boy, I'm so happy."

I let him hold me for a little while longer, and then I pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he would stop holding me and leave. Eventually, my act became reality, and I fell asleep, still hearing him murmuring how happy he was. As sleep took me further away from the waking world, I wondered just what would happen next and what all this would mean.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Ciel's POV:

After hearing me call him 'Papa,' Sir Charles seemed even more devoted to me than before. I hadn't thought it possible, but it was true. Instead of Marcellus, he was the one to wake me up in the mornings and to help me choose an outfit for the day. If I had allowed it, he would have helped me wash and dress, but he had to content himself with helping me on with my coat or handing me my eyepatch. I refused to let him wash and dress me like a baby. (Anyone could say that I allowed Sebastian to wash and dress me like a baby, but he was my servant. That was his _job_.) By this point, I could dress myself with little difficulty and really, it was faster if I dressed myself.

We would head to the dining room for breakfast and Sir Charles kept up a lively chatter while we ate. Often, he would encourage me to eat, but I had little appetite most mornings. I could tell that this worried him, but I was beyond caring. Ever since he had frightened me, I had been despondent. Very few things could interest me anymore, and the one thing that interested me I was denied access to. Sir Charles and Marcellus had both curtailed my visits to Sebastian on the grounds that he was at a delicate stage in his healing and that it would not be beneficial if I visited.

Did I worry for Sebastian? Of course I did! Of the two of us, his situation was worse. I, at least, could get up and walk around while he was dependent on Marcellus for everything. I knew that their reasons for keeping me from visiting were completely groundless, but any attempts on my part to visit Sebastian were stopped by the gray ones guarding the door. Even my throwing things for them to fetch didn't budge them from their post and when I almost hit Sir Charles with a candlestick he threatened to lock me in my room for punishment. If I had known that he was coming down the hall at that moment, then I would have thrown the candlestick even harder, but I had to appear contrite in order to avoid solitary confinement.

My lessons continued under Sir Charles' tutelage, and occasionally, Marcellus would supervise me. I listened, I took notes, and followed their instructions, but I failed to enjoy myself. Lunchtime would arrive and again I had little appetite, and my appetite would be equally nonexistent at tea and dinner. Marcellus often would bring up some small snack at bedtime, hoping that I would eat it. Usually, it would be a hot milk drink with some sort of flavoring as well as sweet biscuits, cake, or a sweet bun filled with fruit. I would drink the milk and have a bite or two of snack, but that was the exception rather than the rule. Mostly, I sipped at the milk before asking Marcellus to take the tray away. I wasn't in any sort of mood for...well, anything.

I could tell that Sir Charles had noticed my depression. I kept seeing him giving me sideways glances, and the expression on his face said clearly that he wondered what was the matter with me. Whenever he asked, I tried to assure him that I was fine. I could tell that he didn't believe me, but it was true. I was fine. I was fine and _plotting_.

Sebastian had told me more than once to escape if I could. I intended to do so, but I knew that I had to be very, very careful. If either Marcellus or Sir Charles guessed what I was planning, or worse, if they _caught_ me, then it could be taken as given that I would never see the light of day again. I could well imagine that they would keep me inside the house, in my room, for the rest of my natural life. I wanted to escape from being a madman's prisoner, not become even more of a prisoner than I already was.

I knew their routines, and I knew that the gray ones wouldn't do anything unless they were given specific orders to do something. For instance, they wouldn't keep me from leaving the grounds unless Marcellus gave them the order, so I knew that it might be possible to sneak off the grounds once I got out of the house. The nearest village was the village of Blackwell, but the nearest railroad station was at the next village, Houghton. I'd seen a map in Sir Charles' study and the markings that meant a railroad ran to Houghton. I could either walk to Blackwell and hire a ride to Houghton, or I could ride on my own to Houghton. The latter seemed to be the less-complicated option, but I didn't know the area at all. I could easily get lost if I tried to ride over the moors, and if I rode on the roads, I could be found easily. Getting to Blackwell and hiring a ride might be the safer thing to do. Thankfully, money to hire a ride and buy railway fare wouldn't be a problem. Sir Charles gave me quite a liberal allowance, and not having anything to spend money on, I had a tidy little sum saved up. Not only would I be able to hire a ride and buy a seat on the train, but I would be able to treat myself to a few nice meals as well if my appetite came back.

I chose a wet day to leave. The rain would hopefully mask my scent somewhat so Marcellus and the gray ones would have trouble finding me. Sir Charles had been on the phone most of the day dealing with a business fiasco that I didn't envy him. Such a situation would have made my head ache before long, and sorting the matter out took him ages. By suppertime I could tell that he was very bothered, so I behaved like a good little Ciel. He let down his guard more when I was pretending to be like the son he wanted, and soon after supper he and I were deep in a board game. I let him fuss over me and put me to bed and he read me a second story when I begged him. I could tell that he was pleased with how I was behaving, and he tucked me in around nine-thirty. I pretended to sleep, wanting to slip away later that night. My journey to Houghton would take a few hours, and by the time I got there it would be time for the early-morning train to London.

I actually fell asleep for a short while, and I woke up around two. I got up and dressed in the dark, pulled on my warmest coat and my riding boots. They weren't built for walking, but they were waterproof and I wanted to keep my feet as dry as possible. I took out every bit of money I had and put it all into my pockets. I slipped out of my room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out into the back gardens. The shortest distance to Blackwell lay that way, so I struck out, working my way over the wall and across the moor toward the few distant lights of the village. I kept myself to a manageable pace but an hour later I was grimly making the resolution that I would have to spend a little more time walking. Occasional riding and fencing lessons kept me in some creditable shape, but neither had prepared me for a cross-country trek.

I made it to Blackwell just as the sun was rising, and already, most of the people were up. I inquired about getting a ride so I could catch the train, and an old farmer named Brom agreed to take me to Houghton. I sat in the cart with the old man and listened to the clatter of the wheels and his chatter square off against one another for supremacy. All the noise was beginning to get to me, but I told myself to ignore it. My old friends the voices were still with me, and I had learned how to ignore them, hadn't I? I could ignore something as trifling as a farmer's chatter and the noise of his cart.

There was a wait of over an hour before the train came, and fortunately, next to the station was a sign of Heaven here on earth: a sign that read _Teas_. I blessed the fact that the owner was so industrious as to be open for the early morning workers and in short order I had in front of me a strong pot of tea, country scones with butter, and a sandwich of thick slices of bacon on toasted bread. I ate all of it and even accepted the bowl of oat porridge the woman offered. It seemed my appetite had returned with swift vengeance and it demanded sustenance. It didn't matter that the food was simple, country fare: A breakfast like this in freedom was better than any haute cuisine meal in a madman's prison.

I had bought my ticket for the train and was waiting on the platform when it began to rain again. It had tapered off over the morning but now it was coming down as if the clouds were using buckets to drop it on us. I huddled in my coat and took refuge under one of the eaves of the station until the train pulled in. I was one of the first ones on the train and was more than happy to hand over my ticket when the conductor asked for it. We pulled out shortly after and I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that I was getting away. I knew that Sebastian would be all right...after all, hadn't he told me to go? He wouldn't have told me that if he knew he wouldn't be all right. I shook my head, reminding myself that it was pretty pointless to worry about it now. I had to return home, and it was likely that Sebastian would be following me there soon after my return.

As the train made its way toward London, I thought about my situation. In a few hours Sir Charles would go to my room to wake me and he would find me gone. He would search for me, but I had no intention of allowing him to drag me back to Blackwell. He would probably check the estate for me first, so I would stay at the London house instead. In Sebastian's absence, I would need some sort of protection, so I would send for the rest of the staff and have them with me until Sebastian returned.

We pulled into one of the towns on the rail line around eleven o'clock that morning. I expected people to get on and off and that would be that, but the train didn't pull out even after people had boarded. Instead, we sat there. What...?

When the door to my compartment opened, I knew the constable was looking for me. He was looking at a paper and comparing what he read to what he saw. "Ciel Emmeridge?"

Oh, no. Ohhhh, no, no. This was not good! "Ah..."

"Come with me," he said, taking hold of my arm.

"Don't touch me so easily!" I snapped, shaking my arm out of his grip.

"Sorry, son, but you've got to come with me," he said. "Running away from home like that..."

"I'm not running away!"

He gave me a stony look. "Well, however you look at it, you can either walk off this train on your own two feet or be carted off it over my shoulder," he ground out. "Which will it be?"

I saw another constable appear behind him and I knew that I had no hope of getting away from the two of them. One I might be able to elude, but two... "I want to go to London," I said. "I have a friend there and I wanted to see him."

"You'll have to write, then," the first constable said.

"But I promised Inspector Abberline I'd see him in London after he finished his work at the Yard," I said, knowing that it was a very slim chance of their contacting him, but I had to try. "He's worried about me since he hasn't heard from me in a while." Into the expression on my face, into the tone of my voice, I projected all of my fear and worry of the past month or so. I prayed one of them would notice it and was intelligent enough to put everything together and realize that something wasn't right.

"If you think he'll be that worried, then I'm sure your father will let you send a telegram. Let's go."

Wishing that I could take my anger out on these two, I let them shepherd me off the train, through the train station, and down the street to the police station. I was led upstairs to a room, and there waited Sir Charles and Marcellus.

"Ciel!" Sir Charles cried, seeing me. A second later I was crushed in a hug and I wished that the man were a little less...demonstrative. That wish intensified as he started talking. "Don't you ever frighten me like this again! What did you think you were doing?"

"I was going to London," I said flatly. _Was going_, but not anymore, apparently.

I was given a lecture from Sir Charles the whole time he filled out the required paperwork and thanked the precinct as a whole for their service. The lecture continued as we left and as we climbed into a carriage. Marcellus climbed to the driver's seat and we set off, Sir Charles still lecturing.

"Now, I want you to tell me what you thought you were doing, Ciel," he said at last. I could tell that he was keeping himself under control, but only just. An answer that he didn't want to hear might make him crazed.

"I was going to London," I said, hanging my head and trying to sound mournful. If I could say the right things in the right way, I might be able to placate him and allay his suspicions, but I would have to use every acting skill I possessed.

"So you said," he said coldly. "Why?"

"I wanted to buy you a surprise, a really nice one," I said, hoping my voice sounded weepy. "You were so unhappy yesterday and I wanted to cheer you up." From somewhere, I worked up a sniffle and squeezed a little moisture out of the corners of my eyes. If he thought I was about to cry, then that would work to my advantage. With luck, he would accept that reason for my leaving and wouldn't think that I'd been trying to escape.

"Oh, Ciel," he said apologetically. "Ciel, you don't have to go to London and buy me something in order to cheer me up. Just being around you makes me feel happier."

Ahh. Hook, line, and sinker. I sniffled again and was relieved to feel a tear making its way down my face. I lifted my face, cautiously, and looked at him. "Really?" His face was all sincerity and when he saw my face, his expression softened even more.

"Really," he said, scooping me up in his arms.

All right, maybe the fake crying had been a little much. I began to regret it when he held me on his lap and kept me there. I knew that asking to get off his lap would be uncharacteristic of a boy who needed to be reassured that his "father" wasn't angry with him, so I endured it. While we rode back toward Blackwell, he told me how he'd found me gone and shouted for Marcellus. The two of them had set off to find me, knowing that in order to get anywhere I would have to use the railroad. It seemed the town the train had stopped in was below Blackwell on the map and it had been easy for them to get there before the train. Silently I cursed that I had overlooked this fact.

"Marcellus was worried, too," Sir Charles said. "So was Sebastian."

I looked up at him. "You spoke to Sebastian?"

He nodded. "Yes. You know, when I told him, he didn't seem at all surprised. It was almost as if he already knew."

I had a strong feeling that Sir Charles was somewhat suspicious due to Sebastian's reaction. This could be bad. "Sebastian almost always knows what I'll do before I do it," I said lightly. "He knows me pretty well, and if he knew anything about how yesterday was for you, then he'd know what I would do."

"Oh, really?" Sir Charles said. "Hmm. Now that you've told me that, his reaction makes a lot more sense."

Sweet, honey-tinged relief flooded me. "There are times when I've wondered if he can read my mind."

Sir Charles stared at me and laughed. "You know, there are times when I've thought that Marcellus could do the same thing!"

It took us most of the day to get back to Blackwell by carriage. My interrupted sleep of the night before made me so tired that I started falling asleep despite being held by Sir Charles. By the time we arrived back at the house Sir Charles had to carry me inside and upstairs. Marcellus brought a supper tray for me, and Sir Charles coaxed me to eat it while he dressed me for bed.

"Silly boy," he said, tucking me in and removing the tray. "Get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning."

Suddenly, I was much, much more tired than I had been before. It had happened so fast that it reminded me of the few times I'd taken a soporific to help me sleep. That bastard! One of them, either Sir Charles or Marcellus, had put something in my food! Dammit!

I didn't curse to myself for long. Just like the soporifics I'd taken before, this one kept me in an odd, half-asleep state for a few minutes. I heard someone else enter the room and approach the bed.

"I see he's asleep, Master," Marcellus said quietly.

"Yes, he's asleep," Sir Charles said. "I don't like the fact that I had to drug him, but we can't take any chances on Sebastian influencing him."

"Yes, sir, I know," Marcellus said.

That utter bastard! He'd decided to drug me, and I thought I'd fooled him! Maybe I even had managed to fool him, but he'd just decided to drug me as a precaution. Even more, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sir Charles thought Sebastian had encouraged me to escape? Well, he had, but how was Sir Charles to know that?

"Is he a danger, Marcellus?"

Marcellus was quiet, and I could imagine him thinking about the question. "Not yet, Master. He's still healing. He's not even able to stand."

"Do you think he could make Ciel leave again?"

Sir Charles had to get a few things straight in his mind. First, my butler never made me do anything. If I did something he asked, then that was because I chose to accommodate him. Second, did he think I was so spineless as to actually follow someone's orders when _I_ was the one who was supposed to be giving the orders? Honestly!

"Not if we watch him carefully," Marcellus offered.

"Marcellus, I would like to be certain," Sir Charles told him. "Now, didn't you tell me he could be controlled? Don't your kind have some way of controlling others of your kind?"

Marcellus paused. "Yes, sir."

"Then this is an order," Sir Charles said. "Put him under your control, or kill him."

If I'd been able, I would have jumped up and started screaming. He couldn't! He couldn't kill Sebastian! He _couldn't_!

"Yes, sir."

I heard the two of them leave and I strained my ears to hear what they were going to do. Would Marcellus carry out his orders right away? The drug started taking me down and I fought against it, hoping that I would hear something that would reassure me.

What I heard was an eerie, keening scream that followed me down into sleep.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

I hadn't known that the young master had taken it upon himself to escape, but I applauded him for it. It seemed he was showing his old spirit again, and I found that very reassuring. I found out that he'd escaped when Sir Charles came to question me. I knew my answers hadn't calmed him and had, in fact, accomplished the contrary. I knew that his actions had upset Sir Charles quite a bit, but I couldn't find it in me to care very much. I loathed the man almost more than I loathed dogs.

Marcellus and Sir Charles left in pursuit of the young master, leaving me in the care of the gray ones. Lumpy and a few others stationed themselves in my room, keeping an eye on me. I passed the time by sleeping as much as I could. In all likelihood, they would be returning around dinnertime, whether they found the young master or not. I didn't feel like reading and the gray ones were poor conversationalists, so I slept.

I woke up and heard the carriage outside, and the sounds of three heartbeats, one demon, two human. Ah, so they'd found him. I had been hoping that my young master would manage to elude them, but I knew that a child traveling alone would have the odds against him. I listened to what I could hear of them getting him fed and putting him to bed, and then I heard Marcellus approaching my room. I knew that this was not good.

"Hello, Marcellus," I said. "You've found the young master?"

"Yes, we found him," he said, closing the door behind him after the gray ones exited, his eyes on me. "He was on a train bound for London."

I nodded. I'd thought as much. I gazed into the fire. I couldn't blame the young master for wanting to leave this place. It felt as if I had been here for a short eternity already, and I hated to think how it felt to the young master.

"Sebastian, look at me," Marcellus said, his voice resonating in his throat.

I knew this was bad and I closed my eyes. "No."

The temperature in the room plummeted and I heard him approach my bed, the whisper of feathers filling the room. "Look at me."

"No!"

I felt Marcellus' hands close around mine and he began to speak. I recognized the words, but hearing one word shocked me enough that I opened my eyes. How...how could he have known that...?

It was too late. I couldn't look away. Marcellus' eyes glowed with demonic light and held mine captive as his voice resonated in the room, pressing in on me and holding me immobile. I felt as if I were being smothered and I fought to draw breath, but the only thing I was able to do was grasp Marcellus' hands in mine. Fiery ice shot through his hands and into mine, to spread up my arms and through the rest of my body. I fought to keep my mouth closed, but the scream worked its way through my teeth and forced my jaws open. I screamed as the pain burned into my body; it burned itself into my skin, into my muscles, into my bones, and into my blood. I could feel my heart pumping my blood and the pain through my veins, and each scream only caused my heart to beat harder.

Several eternities later, the pain began to ease. With each beat of my heart and each breath I took, it lessened and began to fade to nothing. When the last of the pain ended, a feeling of well-being and ease flooded through me, driving a sigh from my lips the same way the pain had forced a scream.

"I am sorry, little one," Marcellus said, still standing by my bed. "Sir Charles ordered that I either put you in thrall or kill you. I did not wish to kill you."

So it had happened, and I hadn't been prepared. "How...?" I croaked. I fought to clear a throat scored by my screams and tried again. "How did you know that? How did you know my true name?" A demon's true name was known only to him, his parents, and his blood relations. The shock of hearing my name from a stranger was enough to frighten me very badly. Having a demon's true name meant that that person could have absolute control over him, even without thrall or a contract. A human having that information to hold over a demon's head was bad enough, but for another demon to have it...! It didn't bear thinking about.

"That's not important," he said, reaching out and smoothing my hair. "How do you feel?"

Not important! Clearly, Marcellus had no grasp of priorities! Then, his question registered and I took stock of how I was feeling. There was no pain, no pain of any kind. The fatigued feeling I'd had since being injured was gone. In fact, I felt entirely well. Incredible. _This_ was thrall? "I feel fine," I admitted. "I feel perfectly fine. There's no pain." The same feeling of well-being and ease was there, though. Was that what thrall was? This...this odd feeling of wellness?

"Good," Marcellus said. "Now, if I hurt you, tell me." So saying, he ran his hands over my arms and legs, checking the breaks. I noticed that he pressed down at each site the bones had been broken, and incredibly, I felt no pain. "Does anything hurt?"

"Nothing," I said, very surprised.

"Good. Try standing."

"What?" I wasn't eager to break my bones again, but my body had its own ideas. Already I was sitting up and I was going to be on my feet in a moment if I didn't stop myself.

"It will be fine," Marcellus said, noticing my attempts at resistance. "Stand, Sebastian."

I stood. As soon as I had, I was suffused with contentment. I felt as if I had just been cuddling a cat. How...odd.

"Excellent," Marcellus said. "When I put you under thrall, I also forced your body to heal. You'll be just fine now."

I didn't want to admit it, but I was relieved. It had been very tiresome to be an invalid. I could have done without the thrall in order to regain my health, though. "So what happens now?" I asked. I knew only that thrall meant that one demon would have to obey another, but beyond that, I had no idea what to expect.

"For now, nothing," Marcellus said. "Get back in bed and go to sleep. I'll wake you in the morning."

I tried not to obey. I tried to fight it, but my body obeyed, and I slept.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: You guys rock for all the reviews! I'm so glad you like this!

Chapter 14

Being in thrall made me appreciate the word "freedom" on levels that I hadn't known existed before, but I certainly was aware of them now. My life and my body were no longer under my control, but the control of another. Even every beat my heart gave and every breath I took was under Marcellus' control. I noticed this when I heard our hearts beat in rhythm with one another and saw our chests rising and falling at the same pace while we breathed. Even when I tried to take a breath on my own my body refused. A feeling like an iron vise closed around my chest until it was time to take a breath in time with Marcellus' and only then could I breathe. I was under his total control and there was nothing I could do about it.

The only thing that had improved in my situation was the fact that I was no longer bed-ridden. I was completely healed and able to get up, and Marcellus seemed just as glad of that fact as I was. I noticed that bells rang more often in the house, meaning that either Sir Charles or my master was increasing the number of his orders, or they both were. Such an increase in work meant that Marcellus would be rather busy and hard-pressed for time. With me following his orders, he could leave some of the more mundane tasks to me. Instead of only two hands, he now had mine at his disposal.

Oh, joy.

The very next morning after he put me in thrall, he woke me around six.

"Time to get up, Sebastian," he said. "We have a lot of work to do."

If he had said _wake up_ instead of _get up_, I would have been awake before I was on my feet, but since he'd phrased his order the way he had, I woke up already standing. "What?"

"It's about six," he said, laying a pile of clothing on the foot of my bed. "Wash up and put on these clothes, set your room in order, and then come downstairs to the kitchen."

Before I could fight it, my hands were already in the bowl of water waiting on the washstand. I washed, dried off, and pulled on the clothes. It was while I was making my bed and folding my nightclothes that I caught sight of myself in the tall mirror and saw that I was wearing an outfit identical to Marcellus'. The tailcoat even had a pin with Sir Charles' coat of arms on it.

Ohhhh, the shame! I was wearing an enemy's symbol! There was no way to recover from the humiliation. _None._ None at all!

Since I knew how large houses were usually arranged, I found the kitchen with little trouble. Inside I found Marcellus holding court at the stove, mixing, stirring, and throwing dashes of seasoning in various pans.

"Hang up your coat, roll up your sleeves, change your gloves to work gloves, put on an apron and start preparing the vegetables on the table," he told me in one breath. "Mince the onions, slice the carrots, and dice the pumpkin after opening it and cleaning it out. Clean the pumpkin seeds and set them aside. Then open up the other pumpkin, clean it out, and carve it into a tureen."

"Pumpkin soup is on the menu, I take it?" I asked once I came to rest at the table and began to do as I'd been ordered.

"Carrot and pumpkin soup," he clarified. "It's for lunch today and it needs to simmer for a while."

"I knew that," I said, remembering the recipes I'd read. "But it needs to simmer for _six_ hours?" All the recipes for pumpkin soup I'd ever read suggested no more than three hours.

"It's the way I'm preparing it," he explained, stirring the contents of a frying pan. "It's actually Sir Charles' favorite recipe, but it's a rush to get it done in time if he wants it for lunch. With that and everything else to do…"

I said nothing else and did as I'd been ordered. Fervently I wished I had a choice in the matter, but I did not. My body obeyed with no instructions from me and I did as I was told. I wouldn't have minded thrall so much if it hadn't been from the rush of contentment I got whenever I obeyed an order. That was probably why we demons feared thrall as we did; we could actually come to enjoy it over time! I hadn't been under thrall for twenty-four hours yet, but already I was beginning to enjoy the effects. That fact alone frightened me beyond all coherent thought. Whenever I obeyed, contentment and a strong feeling of well-being flooded through me. I was afraid to think what I would be like in a week.

Fear of what I could become through thrall drove me to speak. "Marcellus, may I ask a favor?"

He turned and stared at me. "A favor?"

"Instead of ordering me to do something, could you phrase it as a request? Being driven to obey and what happens afterward…" How could I make him understand what it was I feared without letting him know I was afraid?

"In a few days, we'll try that," he said after thinking about my request for several minutes.

"Why in a few days?" I asked a little desperately.

"A few days of following my orders will ensure that the thrall takes hold entirely," he said. "If I began making requests instead of orders, then you could break free."

"I'd prefer requests!" I said, even more desperation seeping into my voice.

"Sebastian, your situation is precarious," he said patiently. "You don't know how close you came to losing your life on Sir Charles' orders. Sir Charles fears the influence you could have on the young master. He doesn't wish you to be out of his sight, so he's ordered me to keep you here. He doesn't want you to be able to act on your own, so he's ordered me to put you in thrall or kill you. I didn't wish to kill you."

I sighed. Marcellus had taken the only choice that he felt would keep me safe. Why he'd wasted the effort, I didn't know, but that was the situation we had to work in and the one I had to endure. "I see."

We were both quiet after that, with Marcellus fixing breakfast and I doing what I'd been ordered. Once I'd finished preparing the vegetables Marcellus set me to sautéing the pumpkin, carrot, and onion together. Once he returned, he ordered me to prepare toast and scones as he put together the soup and set it to simmering. In short order the most succulent aroma filled the kitchen and I had to give him points for the recipe he was using. I actually wanted to taste it to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

I was thankful that Marcellus kept me busy in the following days. Under his orders, I helped prepare meals, washed dishes, dusted, polished silver, laid the fires, blacked the grates, put rooms in order, washed, pressed, and folded laundry, helped feed the gray ones (_that_ was disgusting and the one chore I hated unreservedly; they ate like brutes!) and I did what I was ordered to do. It kept me from thinking and later, fretting. I knew that if I had the chance, I would worry myself into knots. I was not in control of even my body, let alone anything else in my life for the present. Whenever I thought of my situation, I felt ill and my head pounded. I wasn't just worried; I was terrified.

I wasn't used to feeling terrified.

I saw the young master after spending three days in thrall. He was as subdued as I felt. He was quiet and withdrawn and he didn't say much or show much life at all. That…wasn't like him. In fact, it had me worried. What on earth had Sir Charles been _doing_ to him?

Marcellus had me helping serve breakfast that day, and the young master looked at me as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Sebastian?" he said, staring at me.

"Yes, young master?" I said, pouring tea as I'd been instructed.

"You're better now?"

"Marcellus healed me, young master," I explained.

He nodded, still looking as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "You look much better."

I gave a polite little bow. What could I say to that?

"Marcellus," Sir Charles said, looking carefully at me. "Is he…?"

Marcellus knew what he wanted to say. "Yes, Master. He is in thrall."

I saw my young master flinch. Ah, so he'd been worrying about that. I could tell that it was an awful blow to him since if I were in thrall, then there were severe limits on what I would be able to do for him. Any plans he'd been making would have to be revised.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Master," Marcellus affirmed. "If I give him an order, then he has no choice but to follow it."

"Hmm," Sir Charles said thoughtfully. From the expression on his face, I knew I was in trouble. He was about to order Marcellus to order me to do something absolutely ridiculous, like put the tea cozy on my head and dance around, or kiss Lumpy, or…

"I shall prove it," Marcellus said. "Sebastian, meow like a kitten."

I couldn't stop myself. "_Mrau_." Ohhh, I was going to get Marcellus for this. I didn't know when and I didn't know how, but he was going to _pay_.

Sir Charles stared at me and I wished the floor to open up and swallow me. There was a smile playing around his lips and I knew he was only a few seconds away from laughing. "Well, that's…interesting. He'll follow any order?"

I could see only very bad, terrible, and embarrassing things coming from this! Oh, yes, Sir Charles would find what he ordered me to do entertaining, but I most certainly would not!

"Any order I give him," Marcellus clarified, saving me. "Even if he tried to obey an order the young master gave him, if I ordered him to disobey it, he would have to obey me."

The look on Sir Charles' face spoke volumes and I wondered just what was wrong with that wretched floor under my feet. Why hadn't it opened up and swallowed me yet, why?

"Again, interesting," Sir Charles said. "And he has to follow the same order no matter how many times you give it?"

"Each time I give it, he has to follow it. Meow like a kitten again, Sebastian."

Marcellus' days were already numbered, but now the number had just become smaller. "_Mrau._"

"Kitten fiend," my young master muttered.

Sir Charles had heard. "Well, he's already a fiend, Ciel."

Someone needed to correct Sir Charles' misconception. I was not a _fiend_, I was a _demon_. There _was_ a difference. Fiends had no class to speak of, while we demons were undoubtedly superior in every way.

"I knew that," my young master said, stirring his tea. "You just haven't seen him around a cat yet."

"Oh?" Sir Charles sounded interested.

"He loves cats," my young master said. "Only the fact that I'm allergic to cats has kept him from collecting every stray he sees."

Actually, the fact that my master was allergic to cats hadn't stopped me from collecting them; I had about ten of them back in my room at the Phantomhive estate. I was just very careful not to allow dander or their fur to gather on my clothes. I knew I could count on Finny to feed them for me in my absence, and since he loved adorable things, I knew he would play with them and keep them from being lonely, but Heaven _help_ that boy if he petted one of those cats too hard…

One day began to flow into another. I did whatever Marcellus ordered, which mostly consisted of helping him in his work. I did enjoy carrying out my duties as butler again, but I wished with all my heart that the circumstances could have been different.

One would think that Marcellus would have kept me with him all the time, but no. There were times when he ordered me to return to my room and remain there until he came for me. An hour would pass, maybe two or three, but he would come at last and take me back to work. He never explained what these solitary times were for. Other times, he went with me and told me to sleep. I didn't understand why he did that since it was no longer necessary for me to sleep, but sometimes I had a short nap in the afternoons or I slept for entire nights. What purpose my sleeping was supposed to serve was beyond me. Another thing that puzzled me was the fact that occasionally, he would feed me. It was no longer necessary to feed me since I was already healed, but he would insist. The first time he tried it I had fought him with my newly-regained strength, but with an order he brought me under control and forced me to drink. The only difference was that the feeding had been much shorter, a few swallows only, rather than being made to drink until I was full. When I asked for an explanation, he used the same phrase that he used to explain almost all his actions. He had his reasons, and that was that.

Three weeks after I'd been put in thrall Marcellus and I were in the butler's pantry. He had me polishing the silver while he went over the supply inventory, and I found myself worrying yet again about the young master. Was he getting enough rest? Had his asthma been bothering him? He'd certainly looked wretched enough that morning at breakfast. Did his food agree with him, or did he need a few gustatory luxuries to tempt his appetite? I rarely saw him since Sir Charles didn't like me to be around my master, so I could only rely on reports from Marcellus for information during times Sir Charles banished me from the young master's presence.

"Sebastian?"

I nearly dropped the knife I was polishing. "Young master?"

Marcellus looked up from what he was doing to where the young master was standing in the doorway. "Young master, you're supposed to be having a nap."

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "They won't shut up."

"Who?" I asked. "The voices again?"

"Mmm," he affirmed, taking a seat on a stool. "They won't stop." He stared at me and then at Marcellus. "What are you two doing?"

"I'm polishing the silver and Marcellus is checking the inventory," I told him.

He leaned against the wall, looking tired. "Nothing interesting, I take it."

"Not really," Marcellus said. "Is there anything I can do for you, young master?"

"Just allow me to sit here with you for a while," he said. "I don't want to go back upstairs."

"Very well, sir," Marcellus said as he returned to his task. I went back to my work, too, but I kept an eye on the young master. He was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes, and weariness was written in every line of his body.

I edged my way over to Marcellus as my master closed his eyes and his breathing deepened. By the time I reached Marcellus' side, the young master was asleep and I could talk to Marcellus as long as I did not speak too loudly.

"Marcellus, what's wrong with him?" I asked. "Please, tell me."

Marcellus glanced at the young master. "He is depressed, Sebastian. He is depressed and under a great deal of stress, and that's taking a toll on him. Sir Charles has become very...attentive of late."

"Attentive?" That word could mean almost anything and a few awful visions flooded my mind. "How so?"

Marcellus must have guessed what I was thinking from the expression on my face. "Oh, nothing like that! Believe me, I wouldn't allow it. No, he's afraid something will happen to the young master during the night, so he ordered the young master's bed moved to his room."

I blinked. My master preferred to sleep in a room by himself; in no way would he find sharing a room with someone who frightened him restful! No wonder he was so tired! "Anything else?"

"He won't allow the young master to go up or down stairs without holding onto his hand," Marcellus said. "If Sir Charles is not with him, then I must hold his hand."

There was more, I could tell. I had a feeling that Marcellus was reluctant to tell me all this due to any bad reaction on my part, so I tried my hardest to keep calm. "And?"

"He's afraid to leave the young master alone," he said, turning a page in his inventory book and checking the accounts against the lists on the table in front of him. "An adult must always be present wherever he is, except the water closet. In that case, the adult waits just outside the door."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All of these latest changes…they were abusive! They allowed the focus of such measures no chance to relax or reflect or enjoy the solitude of their own thoughts. How easy would it be for someone to allow his mind to wander if someone else were always there?

"Marcellus, can you convince him to…to ease up a little?" I pleaded. "He'll drive the young master mad!" I knew that there were times when the young master preferred to be by himself; such times spent alone allowed him to refresh his mind and calm down, but if he lost the chance to do that...No wonder he was so tired!

"I'm working on it," Marcellus told me. "Believe me, Sebastian. Such actions are not healthy for either of them. Sir Charles has worked himself into such worry that he can't relax, and the young master picks up on that tension and becomes nervous. I'm trying to think of a way to make Sir Charles relax, but once he gets an idea into his head about something, it's very difficult to make him let go of it."

"I was afraid of that," I said. "My master is similarly stubborn about certain things, but he will listen to reason when needful."

"I wish my master would listen to reason now. Also, I wish he had something else to focus on," he confessed. "Something that would make him think of something besides the young master." He sighed and put his work aside.

This was the first time I'd ever seen him look so troubled. "Marcellus, what's wrong?"

He gave a grim smile. "I'm sure you'd have trouble believing this, but I wish I could dissolve the contract between Sir Charles and myself."

Once again, I almost dropped the knife and decided to put it down. "You do?" Never, in all my life, had I heard a demon say that.

He nodded. "I hadn't realized that what Sir Charles wanted would harm children to this degree."

Children? Oh, yes. Marcellus thought of me as a child. It was still as irritating now as it was when I first learned how he thought of me, but I decided it wasn't worth arguing about. "What can you do? The situation…"

"Is intolerable," Marcellus muttered. "It's intolerable for Sir Charles, for the young master, for you, and for me."

A demon regretting his actions…I couldn't believe it, but it was clear that what I was seeing was regret. Demons did not feel regret, not really. We could feel sorrow, we could feel unhappiness, but we did not feel regret to any large degree. Not the way humans experienced it, but what I was seeing was _human_ regret. "You regret what you did?" I whispered.

"Yes, I regret it," he answered. "Instead of finding peace, Sir Charles has only found more worry. Instead of having a father who cares about him, Ciel has a jailer who frightens him. Instead of being able to care for your master, you are in thrall to me. Instead of having a master who's happy with his son, I have a master who is slowly driving himself into madness. Madness in humans can be circumvented if one goes about it the correct way, but I don't know how to bring Sir Charles back from the edge of insanity."

"That's always difficult," I said. I had had two masters and one mistress who had lost their minds, but I'd found that keeping them occupied as they approached a "spell" had been effective. Most often, something that they enjoyed doing was most effective. I pummeled my brains for a few minutes. When my young master needed distraction, we usually went to London…Oh! "Doesn't Sir Charles keep a house in London?"

Marcellus' head came up. "Yes, he does, but he'd never take the young master there."

"Why not?"

"Well, he doesn't wish even the villagers to know about the young master being here, so I doubt he'd want all those people in London knowing," Marcellus explained.

"But going to London would be perfect!" I insisted. "In London, one can be as anonymous as he pleases! In a village, someone new would be noticed, but in London, someone new is only someone new. Nobody really notices."

I could tell that Marcellus was thinking about what I was saying. "And how would going to London make Sir Charles lift all of these new strictures he's placed on the young master?"

"It would give him something else to think about," I said. "New surroundings, countless chances for entertainment…also, if we were able to arrange it so Sir Charles met someone, say a doctor specializing in the care of children, then wouldn't he be willing to at least listen to his new friend's advice?"

The look on Marcellus' face was priceless as I saw him consider several possibilities. No matter how much he wished to change the situation, he had no way to do so, but a _change_ in the situation could allow him to change the whole.

"I think…that that is a very good idea, Sebastian," he said. "The hardest part would be to convince Sir Charles to go to London, but once we accomplished that, the rest would be easy."

"Indeed it would," I agreed. I could hardly believe that I was collaborating with an enemy, but if it helped my master in some way, then I would do so.

The thought made me pause. Could I even call Marcellus an enemy anymore? He didn't feel like an enemy, but he was helping to keep my master a prisoner…I sighed. I wasn't sure.

Marcellus looked past me to where my young master slept. "Does your master enjoy going to London?"

"He doesn't care for the noise, the dirt, or the crowds of people, but he does enjoy a few things about the city."

"Such as?"

"He likes the opera, the ballet, the theater, and the many museums and libraries. He also enjoys going to musical performances," I said. "Plus, he enjoys the occasional shopping trip. There were days when we would return to the Phantomhive estate with a carriage full of packages."

Marcellus looked from me to my master and back again. "I can't imagine him having fun shopping."

"He'd be the first to deny it."

That actually coaxed a smile from Marcellus. 'What does he go shopping for?"

"Books, mostly," I admitted. "My young master is a voracious reader. Other times we would bring home art supplies or sheet music for the music room, and occasionally he would buy some clothing for himself. Not much, though. Most of his clothing was made by his tailor."

"How long would these shopping trips last?"

"Sometimes a day, sometimes several days to a few weeks. Once we prowled London for the better part of a month before he found the book he wanted."

Marcellus chuckled, then looked past me to the sleeping young master. "Do you think we should take him upstairs? He'd be much more comfortable sleeping on a couch or his bed than that stool."

"I don't think he wants to be where Sir Charles could find him easily," I said. "I think that's why he came down here in the first place."

"Hmm," Marcellus said thoughtfully. "You might be right."

"I might also be down here hoping two butlers would agree to give me an afternoon snack," we heard my young master say.

Both of us turned to stare at him. "How long have you been awake?" we asked in unison.

He opened his eyes and stared at us. "All right, that was just frightening. I've been awake for a bit. Do you really think we can convince Sir Charles to go to London?"

"I don't know if we can, but I'm certainly willing to try," Marcellus said.

I couldn't get over the change in Marcellus. All at once, it struck me that instead of helping keep us prisoner, he was willing to work with us so our situation wouldn't be so unbearable. Would any other jailer be willing to do that?

"I'm glad," my young master said. "Now, about that afternoon snack…"

I checked the time. "Young master, if you eat something now, you won't finish all of your dinner."

"I don't care about that," he said. "If I make it an order, then you have to obey me, don't you?"

"As long as I don't order him not to follow that order," Marcellus said quickly.

My master gave a world-weary sigh, clearly annoyed. "You two are such a pair."

"We are merely concerned for your welfare, young master," I said.

"Tch." He left his stool and approached us. "So, London. Can it happen?"

"It's possible, if we go about it the right way," Marcellus said. "Sir Charles mustn't suspect anything, though."

My master stared at the floor, thinking. "What if I asked him to take me to London?" he suggested. "I could talk a bit like an eager kid and call him 'Papa.' He's usually pretty indulgent toward me if I do that."

I cursed the fact that I'd been away from my young master for so long. That he was willing to call a strange man 'Papa' was worrisome. "Do you do that often?"

He gave me a long look. "Only when I have to," he said levelly.

From his tone, I knew that what had happened hadn't been good. "Young master..."

"I _don't_ want to talk about it, Sebastian," he interrupted.

Whatever had happened, Marcellus hadn't told me about it, and it had been big. I could tell that it had upset my young master very much and I knew that I couldn't let it go. Somehow, I would have to find a way to learn what had happened and help him come to terms with it. Otherwise, he would attempt to bottle up the emotion and that was bad. It was as bad as it could be.

"No, I think it would be best if mention of London came from me," Marcellus said at last. "I'm the one he would least suspect."

"I'll leave it to you," my master said. "Now, I'd better go back upstairs before Sir Charles realizes I'm not where he left me. He might..."

"CIEL! CIEL! Answer me!"

"Ah, too late," he groaned. "Quick, one of you give me a snack! Something a kid would want!"

In short order my master joined us in the kitchen where Marcellus and I produced a fruit and cream parfait, which my master was happily eating when Sir Charles rushed into the kitchen. "Marcellus, I can't find Ciel!" He slid to a halt and stared at the three of us, Marcellus and I deep in our duties and the young master deep in his snack. "Ciel, how long have you been down here?"

"Only a little while. I came to ask Marcellus for a snack, Papa," he said brightly, hopping from the stool in front of the kitchen table. "I was hungry!"

My master was a very good actor. He had had to learn to be such, inheriting the title of Queen's Guard Dog upon the death of his father, and I could tell that he was using every acting skill he possessed in order to convince Sir Charles that he had only wanted a snack.

"Now, you know better than that," Sir Charles said patiently. "When you're down for a nap, that's what you're supposed to do. You're not supposed to wander the house. What if you had fallen down the stairs?"

"I held onto the banister with both hands," my young master offered. "I was very careful, Papa, just like you told me to be."

Sir Charles put a hand on his shoulder. "All right. Next time you're down for a nap, stay there, all right? Ring for Marcellus if you want something instead of searching him out."

The young master smiled. "Yes, Papa."

He looked like the young master and spoke with the young master's voice, but I felt as if I were looking at a stranger. This was...eerie. As a demon, such things shouldn't have bothered me, but I was as bothered as I could get.

"If you're finished with your snack, Ciel, why don't you go out to the terrace and wait for me there? I'd like to talk to Marcellus for a minute."

My master did as Sir Charles asked and as soon as he'd left the room Sir Charles turned to Marcellus. "Marcellus, I want you to tell me the truth about this, all right?"

Marcellus nodded. "Yes, sir?"

"Does Ciel look pale to you?"

Marcellus looked the way the young master had gone and nodded. "I think so, yes. I think he looks...well, he looks as if a change of scene would do him good."

"He does?"

"Yes, master. He does."

Sir Charles nodded, looking thoughtful. "Where would you suggest I take him? I don't want strangers to try to take him from me. Somewhere on the coast, perhaps? Brighton? Blackpool?"

Marcellus bowed. "With respect, sir, London would be a better choice."

Marcellus' answer surprised him. "London? All those people?"

"How better to be anonymous than to be in the midst of thousands?" Marcellus pointed out.

I could tell that Sir Charles was thinking about this. "I don't know if Ciel even likes London."

"We could ask Sebastian," Marcellus suggested.

"Would he tell us the truth?"

This impugning of my integrity was almost more than I could bear.

"Demons do not lie," Marcellus reminded him. "Sebastian, tell us. What does the young master think of London?"

I told him almost exactly what I had told Marcellus. I could see him thinking about what I was saying and I hoped...

"All right," Sir Charles said soon after I finished speaking. "Marcellus, arrange to have the London house opened. We'll be leaving on Friday."

A/N: Whew! Long chapter! Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Ciel's POV:

My nightmare only got worse after Sir Charles and Marcellus brought me back to Blackwell and after Marcellus put Sebastian in thrall. With him in thrall, I was effectively on my own in every way. I knew I would have to be very careful in the coming weeks if I didn't want to end up hurt or dead. When I asked Sir Charles if he was angry with me for sneaking out like I had he said no, but I could tell that my actions had made him more vigilant. They'd also made him more paranoid.

Two days after my unwilling return, Sir Charles ordered Marcellus to move my bed into his room. I hated sharing a room since I could never be sure what another person in a room with me would do. A few times during my captivity one of my captors had taken me to his room to sleep, but that had never ended well. _Ever._ He had been one of the first I'd ordered Sebastian to kill, even though he'd been one of the kinder ones. Now, I had to share a room with Sir Charles in almost the same situation since there were times when I received relief from the voices only when I left my bed to join Sir Charles in his. Once the voices faded in my mind I was able to sleep, but invariably I woke to find Sir Charles' arms around me. It was always disconcerting to wake up that way, being cuddled by a madman with a soppy smile on his face.

Things became even worse. It wasn't long before he was with me all the time, making sure that I was all right. I was never in a room by myself and there were times when I was sure that his constant presence was going to drive me to distraction in very short order. Even when I needed to use the water closet he went with me and stood outside the door until I finished. If I had to go up or down stairs, he insisted on holding my hand. It wasn't until I found a book on his nightstand describing the early life of Queen Victoria that I realized what he was doing was his own version of Conroy's Kensington system. The Queen had hated the Kensington system passionately, and I was coming to loathe the Emmeridge system just as much, if not more.

Another change in my situation came from me. I noticed that if I called Sir Charles 'Papa' then he relaxed his vigilance somewhat, which allowed me to relax in turn. Soon I was always calling him 'Papa.' I hated doing that, but it kept him from smothering me to death. If I called him 'Papa' then I would have a few precious minutes in a room by myself while Sir Charles was in another room. Those few minutes helped me feel as if I were actually breathing instead of gasping for breath.

With all of his new rules, the news of a trip to London came as a surprise to me. He told me one morning at breakfast that we were going to leave the following Friday for town and I just couldn't believe him. "London? Why London?"

"I think we're both in need of a change of scene," Sir Charles said affably. "We can visit the theater, take in some museums, do some shopping, and just enjoy ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

London. Oh, how I'd missed being able to go to London whenever I wished! The other day I'd been craving a prowl through Hatchards and the craving hadn't gone away. "Yes, I would."

"Excellent!" Sir Charles said, buttering a scone for me. "Think about all the things you'd like to do before we leave, all right? That way we can make some tentative plans."

Plans? Who needed plans? This was London! Anyone could go there and spend a lifetime there without seeing all of it! You could do whatever you liked during the day and no two days were ever the same! Well, if he wanted plans, I supposed I could give him some. "I'm already thinking," I told him. It was true, too. First, I wanted to go to Hatchards, and then I wanted to spend a day each in Harrods, Fortnum and Mason, and Harvey and Nichols. You needed at least a day to do a good prowl through such stores and they deserved no less than a day. After that, a quick stop at Charbonnel et Walker was in order, and a day or so on Oxford Street would be perfect. I had no idea how Funtom was progressing, so some visits to a few toy shops would be good. Hamleys on Regent Street would be a good place to start. He'd mentioned museums…would he be willing to go to the British Museum? I hadn't been there for a while and I wanted to visit the antiquities collections again. Perhaps a visit to the new Natural History Museum would be forthcoming. The natural history collections from the British Museum had been transferred there due to a premium on space and I did enjoy seeing such things occasionally. Visiting the National Gallery would take the better part of a day. A few trips to Covent Garden would be especially nice since they were performing Gounod's _Faust_. If we ate out, the Café Royal was perfect for French cuisine, and Simpson's was just as good for English fare.

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to go. I wanted to be in London right at that moment without delay. Despite my hatred of the noise, dirt, and crowds, I wanted to be in London. I _wanted_ the noise, dirt, and the crowds. I wanted to _be _there. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

I had to wait, however. Time crawled by until Friday arrived, and I was up and out of bed at first light, pulling on my clothes. I was too excited to stay in bed any longer and I wanted to head out as soon as possible.

"Wake up!" I said happily, jumping onto Sir Charles' bed and hopping up and down. (That was a bit of revenge for what I'd been enduring. No one likes to wake up before he's ready to and I felt he deserved a rude awakening.) "Wake up! It's Friday! Time to go to London!"

Sir Charles emerged from his blankets only long enough to glance at the clock. "Our train doesn't leave until ten-twenty, Ciel," he said, sinking back into his cocoon. Apparently, it was far too early for him to be indulgent toward an exuberant child. "Why on earth are you up at ten past six?"

"I'm too excited!" I cried, leaping off the bed. I was playing the part of excited child to the hilt and I could tell that Sir Charles was the tiniest bit annoyed by it. Good.

"Ring for Marcellus, then," Sir Charles said. "I'm still tired."

I did as I was told and Marcellus arrived.

"Ciel has quite a lot of energy to burn off before we take the train later," he said. "The conductor would try to prosecute me if I took him on the train in that condition. Would you take him outside for a bit, Marcellus?"

"Yes, sir," Marcellus said with a little bow. "Come with me, please, young master."

Marcellus took me outside, where I indulged my inner child and lost my dignity for a bit by racing about before playing fetch with the gray ones. If I threw several sticks at once it was fun to watch them trying to decide which ones to pursue first. Once I'd calmed down somewhat, Marcellus took me back inside for my breakfast and then it was out to the garden again. There a surprise waited for me: Sebastian was waiting, and he had lawn bowling set up for the two of us to play. While we played, I asked him how he was holding up.

"So far, so good, young master," he told me. "You?"

"I'm amazed we're going to London," I confessed. "Sebastian, about being in thrall..." His being in thrall still bothered me. So far, he didn't seem that different. He seemed like the human butler he pretended to be instead of the silent automaton I expected. If this was thrall, then the difference in him was minuscule.

"I am in thrall, young master," he said, sounding regretful. "Believe me."

"Are you all right?" I asked, surprising myself.

He nodded. "Yes. So far, I'm fine. Now, instead of choosing to obey someone, I am simply compelled to do so. That's the only difference that's occurred in my situation."

"What does Marcellus order you to do?" I asked.

"Chores, mostly," he said, taking his turn and rolling the ball toward the pins. "Clean this, dust that, etcetera. Nothing too exciting."

"Is there anything you're not telling me about being in thrall and the things Marcellus is ordering you to do?" I had learned to ask this kind of question in the past few years of Sebastian's service. Unless I specifically asked about something, then he felt no compulsion to tell me what I might need or want to know. He was a demon and he followed the letter of his orders, not the spirit. If I asked a such a question, then he would have to answer it truthfully.

He glanced at me and began to set up the pins again. "Yes."

I knew I'd have to pry it out of him, but I had to ask the right questions if I wanted to get anywhere. First things first. "Does Marcellus order you to do things you don't want to do?"

He nudged one pin so that it was perfectly aligned. "Yes." He paused. "Young master, I really don't wish to talk about this."

I nearly dropped the ball on my foot. He was putting me off? "Why not?"

"I'm not comfortable discussing this."

Was it my imagination, or did Sebastian seem worried? "Sebastian, what's worrying you?"

He gave me a look that was hard to decipher, but if I had to choose, I would have said that it bordered on dreading something.

"I...I..."

I couldn't believe it. Sebastian Michaelis was _hesitating_? He was _stammering_? I had _never_ heard him stammer. "Is Marcellus hurting you in some way?" I demanded. I knew that Sebastian could withstand pain that would kill an ordinary human, but I really didn't want him to suffer unnecessarily. Serving me should be trial enough for him.

My question surprised him. "Hurting me? Oh, no, Bocchan. He's not hurting me."

"Then why are you so reluctant to tell me what else he's ordering you to do?"

"Because he finds it embarrassing," I heard Marcellus say behind me.

My mind conjured up any number of unpleasant things that Marcellus might be forcing him to do and suddenly, I was angry. "What are you making him do that's making him so uncomfortable?"

He smiled. "It's not just what I'm ordering him to do, young master, it's how obeying affects him that he's finding so embarrassing."

I looked up at him, confused. "I don't understand you."

Marcellus looked past me to Sebastian. "Sebastian, go the kitchen and wait for us there. I'm sure you don't want to be here while I explain things to the young master."

When he heard that sentence, Sebastian actually paled. "Marcellus, please..." His feet started to move, but his head turned, his gaze imploring Marcellus to stay quiet on the subject.

"I'll only tell him what he needs to understand, Sebastian. Run to the kitchen, now."

It seemed thrall required perfect obedience because Sebastian broke into a run. In less than a minute he was in the house and I had a mental picture of him skidding to a halt in the kitchen.

"Why are demons always so cryptic?" I muttered.

"We are demons," Marcellus said lightly. "That is part of how we are, young master. As for your question, what I'm ordering him to do is sleep and to allow me to feed him. That is all."

I remembered Sebastian's reluctance to have me see him being fed. "That's all?" I thought about it. "Why are you feeding him now? Didn't you only need to feed him to help him heal?"

"Demons can feed one another at any time," he explained. "As for my feeding him now, let me just say that I have my reasons."

I nearly threw the bowling ball at his head and I put it down before I could act on my impulse. "You never explain your reasons!" I was beyond frustrated.

"There are times when my reasons are comprehensible to a human mind and there are times when they are not," he said firmly. "If I explained my reasons, _all_ my reasons, you might end up more confused than you are now."

"Start with the simplest one; I'm sure that a human would understand it!" I said snidely.

Marcellus began to put the lawn bowling set away in its case. "Very well, young master. First, let me ask you something. Has Sebastian ever told you how demons experience loneliness or a feeling of belonging?"

I thought about it. "No, he hasn't. He said that demons have all the human emotions but that they experience them differently than humans would."

"Loneliness is a demon's constant companion. Even one's blood relatives or lover could suddenly decide you are a threat to them and kill you. Therefore, relationships among demons are very guarded and formal and the majority of us are solitary by choice. It is rare for us to enjoy actual friendship with each other. There have been very few such friendships and just as few loving relationships among demons since our beginning. Most often, demons will masquerade as humans in order to have human friends, but they feel only a tiny thread of connection, a mere shadow of what humans feel for their friends. Sometimes, a demon under contract will come to care for his master and he will have that bond, but it is tenuous at best since the fulfillment of the contract ends the bond. Do you understand so far?"

I nodded. "So far, yes. Go on, please."

"The closest relationships are the ones that exist between parents and their offspring. When a child is born, for a short while he is continually dependent upon his parents for nourishment and protection. He is too young to swallow a human soul, so most often he is fed by a parent's blood or by a human nurse."

What he told me surprised me. "Where do the human nurses come from?"

"Several places, but they're not really important for what we're discussing at present," he said, steering me back to the topic. "Now, when a parent feeds his or her child, the parent feels a strong sensation of connection to the child. That feeling is very strong and is immensely enjoyable for the parent, just as enjoyable as being fed is for the hungry child. Feeding an offspring is one of the strongest moments of pure happiness we have."

The way he said that last sentence made me think. "Marcellus, do you have children?"

"I have a son," he admitted.

I stared and wondered if what I suspected was possible. "Is it Sebastian?"

Still smiling, he shook his head. "No."

"Oh. So feeding someone...you enjoy doing that?" I didn't understand what would be so enjoyable about it for anyone.

"Oh, very much, young master," he assured me. "When I feed someone, I feel very close to that person and I feel...well, protective. Almost loving, really, if you can call the emotion we demons feel then 'love'. It's such a simple word for a feeling that's so complex. I doubt there are human words for what that feeling is really like."

I thought about what he'd told me. Strong feelings...Sebastian might find those difficult to handle since he always liked to present a calm and composed face to the world. If being fed caused strong feelings in him, then that might be why he was embarrassed by it. Then again... "I still don't understand why he finds being fed embarrassing. I'm not embarrassed when I eat my meals."

Marcellus chuckled and closed the bowling case. "Young master, you're not quite grasping it," he said merrily. "A human analogy...hmmm. What if Sir Charles decreed you were going to receive all your nourishment through a human nurse and so you were breast-fed at every meal?"

I felt my face flame crimson. "Don't talk nonsense!" That was just...odd. Weird. Too weird for words, honestly.

"It isn't nonsense, young master," he said evenly. "That's the closest analogy I could think of. Sebastian's reluctant to have me continue feeding him since he'll have only heard of lovers feeding each other that way. I doubt he's ever seen a demon child being fed, so I'm fairly certain that he won't know anything about it, but it is comparable to a human mother nursing her infant. Sometimes an older child will be fed that way if he is injured. Feeding one another in such a way allows us to feel as if we belong to someone else and they belong to us. Are you beginning to understand why I like feeding him and why he finds it embarrassing?"

"Actually, I'm beginning to wish I hadn't asked," I said, my tone full of chagrin. "I really, really..." I trailed off. This was so far beyond what I'd expected that I wished the earth would swallow me whole just so I could get away from this conversation. Grimly, I made the resolution to ask myself if I really wanted to know something before I asked a question. I thought about all that had been said and realized that for a simple reason, it had required a lot of explanation. "So Sebastian find it embarrassing because he only knows about lovers feeding one another," I said calmly, sternly telling myself to stop blushing. Honestly, there was no reason for _me_ to be embarrassed! "Is he afraid that I'll think the two of you are lovers if I know you're still feeding him?"

He nodded. "That, and the act itself is somewhat intimate for both demons," he said. "Now, as to how obeying affects him...he enjoys it."

I couldn't speak. He was enjoying being forced to obey? "What?"

"That's part of why demons fear thrall as much as they do," he told me. "When a demon is in thrall, he is compelled to obey, but at the same time, thrall is also training the one in thrall to obey without the compulsion. If he obeys an order, well-being suffuses him. Over time, thrall is able to devote less energy to making the demon obey and more energy to sustaining itself since the demon eventually learns to obey with no compulsion at all. Sebastian doesn't enjoy the well-being he receives each time he obeys because he feels he should only be obedient to your orders, young master."

Considering what I knew about Sebastian, the whole thing about obedience made sense. "I see. Marcellus, does he have to obey you?"

He blinked and looked at me. "You know, he was asking me if I needed to keep using Influence with you in the same manner the other day," he said. "Yes, for the present time, he does. Sir Charles has ordered it."

I hadn't known that Sebastian had been making requests on my behalf. For some reason, that reassured me.

"Now, have I answered all your questions for the present, young master?"

"Yes, for the present," I said. I wanted to think about all I'd learned. I felt that if I learned more about any situation I was in, I could always find a way out. Learning more about Sebastian's situation might help the both of us find a way out of our troubles. Fortunately, Marcellus had given me a great deal to think about on the train journey to London.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

Ahh, London. The city was a centuries-old tangle of streets and humanity, layers upon layers of history that were always buried anew with each passing of an age. There were times when London impressed me and there were times when it disgusted me, but I had to admit that the number of alley cats more than made up for the disgust.

We arrived at the Victoria station and hired a carriage to take us all to Sir Charles' London home in Mayfair. Several prominent families made their homes in Mayfair and I had to admit that I was surprised Sir Charles chose to have a house there, rather than a townhouse somewhere. Most bachelors did, but then again, Sir Charles wasn't a typical man. The house was a large, Georgian style home with a good-size garden and stable behind it. Sir Charles had had Marcellus hire a few workers to get the house in livable condition for us and I had to admit that they'd done an admirable job. The house was aired, no piece of furniture had a dust-cloth over it, and the place was dirt and dust-free. I couldn't have done a better job myself.

Sir Charles began to give the young master a tour of the house and grounds while Marcellus showed me the servants' quarters and the kitchen, scullery, and butler's pantry. Once I was oriented, we began to prepare tea for Sir Charles and the young master. Since Marcellus left the choice of a sweet up to me, I prepared one of the young master's favorites and made sure that the tea accompanying it was his favorite blend. He deserved a bit of indulgence, I thought.

While our masters were having tea, Marcellus and I unpacked their luggage and set their bedroom to rights. Sir Charles was still insisting that the young master share a room with him and I knew that he would find it irksome.

"Sebastian, why do you have such an ugly frown on your face?" Marcellus asked as he put the last of Sir Charles' shirts away.

"The young master hates to share a room," I told him.

"I know," Marcellus said. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

At the moment, I really couldn't think of anything that we could do. Was there any chance of reasoning with a deluded madman?

The doorbell ringing brought me out of my thoughts.

"Blast," Marcellus muttered. "Finish unpacking, Sebastian, and put the trunks in the box room under the stairs. Then go to the kitchen and wait for me there."

I nodded and Marcellus went to answer the door. I was busy unpacking the young master's clothes when I heard Marcellus speaking to the person at the front door. Something about the man's voice drove me to the window so I could see who it was.

"I'm Inspector Abberline with Scotland Yard. I've been hired by a Prince Soma to look into the disappearance of his friend, the Earl Ciel Phantomhive."

I nearly lost my mind as the compulsion drove me to finish folding the shirt I was holding, place it in its drawer, and fetch another one. Abberline was at the door and here I was, folding clothes!

"Would you have seen this boy anywhere?"

I leaned as close to the glass I could get (Marcellus would hear if a window opened) and I saw a photograph of my master in Marcellus' hand.

"He's so young!" Marcellus said. "And you've said he's disappeared?"

"Some time ago," Abberline confirmed. "Prince Soma made a pest of himself at the Yard until I agreed to take on the case. No one believed him when he said that his friend had just disappeared. You see, remains were found..."

"Remains?" Marcellus was a good actor; he actually sounded alarmed!

"A wild animal attack, but Prince Soma insists that Ciel Phantomhive is alive," Abberline explained.

"Ah, I see," Marcellus said. "I wish I could help you, Inspector, but we've only just arrived today. Before that, we were in Yorkshire."

"Well, thank you," Abberline said. "Well, if you do see this young man anywhere, I can be reached at the Yard. His friends are very worried about him."

"I understand. I wish you good luck in your search, Inspector," Marcellus said. "Good evening." The door closed and Abberline turned away. The compulsion was forcing me toward the wardrobe so I could put the shirt away, but I gave the glass a sharp rap, causing Abberline to turn around.

Blast! He wasn't fast enough. Thrall had forced me away from the window and Abberline saw nothing but a curtain swinging back into place. Idly, I wondered if Marcellus had heard what I'd done. At the moment I could hear him speaking with Sir Charles down in the hallway. Sir Charles sounded upset (had he heard their conversation?) and I could hear Marcellus calming him. I hurried through my task and picked up the trunks to take them down to the box room. As I made my way down the stairs I saw Sir Charles and Marcellus in the foyer, talking. I put the trunks away, closed the door, and turned around to find them both staring at me.

"I am disappointed, Sebastian," Sir Charles said grimly. "That was a Scotland Yard inspector at the door, and you tried to attract his attention."

"Sir, how could I do that?" I asked. "I was upstairs unpacking."

"And he looked at the upstairs windows when he turned around," Sir Charles growled. "Marcellus, he's too dangerous to keep here. I want you to kill him tonight after it gets dark."

"_NOOOO!_"

None of us had realized the young master was nearby, but I knew he'd heard everything. He launched himself at me, locking his arms around my waist and...I couldn't believe it. He was _sobbing_. He, Ciel Phantomhive, was _crying_.

"You can't kill Sebastian!" he shrieked, still holding onto me. "I won't let you!"

"Ciel, he almost attracted a stranger's attention," Sir Charles said. "He could have taken you away from me."

"Sebastian wouldn't have let anyone take me if I didn't want to go!" my master countered, still sobbing. "Sebastian's been my friend ever since the Phantomhives died! He got me away from the bad people! He's protected me ever since then and he's been my friend and teacher! I won't let him be killed!"

"Ciel, he..."

"How do you know that it wasn't an accident?" my master demanded. "I've seen him stumble when thrall makes him do something!"

That was true. I hated the fact that thrall sometimes made me clumsy and I remembered my young master had seen me stumble and trip when obeying an order.

"That's true," Marcellus said. "He does stumble sometimes."

I could tell Sir Charles was thinking and I started praying that he would change his mind.

"If you kill Sebastian, I won't love you anymore, Papa!" the young master said fiercely. "I'll never talk to you, or even look at you, and if people ask me who my father is, they'll never know it's you!"

Sir Charles looked as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Ciel...son..."

The young master glanced at Sir Charles. His eyes were full of tears, tears which were streaming down his face, and his lip was trembling. He looked like the perfect representation of a tearful child, and I could almost see Sir Charles melting.

"It's all right, Ciel," he said at last, capitulating. "I won't have Sebastian killed, so you don't have to cry anymore."

My young master sniffled and looked up at Sir Charles. "Really?"

"Really," Sir Charles said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopping at the young master's face. "Don't cry, Ciel. It's all right, now."

My master took the handkerchief and buried his face in it. He'd reached that odd, hiccuping-like stage that children reached when crying, when they were just starting to calm down but they were still upset. The young master's shoulders twitched with every breath he took, each breath turned into a hiccupy sob and I could tell that he was fighting to get himself under control.

Sir Charles picked my young master up and cradled him in his arms. "It's all right, Ciel," he said, cuddling my young master while he tried to calm down. "Marcellus, is tea ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Bring it to the parlor, please. I'm going to try to get Ciel to calm down, then I'll try to get him to have a little nap after his tea."

"Very good sir," Marcellus said with a little bow. As Sir Charles carried my young master into the parlor, Marcellus leaned close and whispered, "Go up to your room, Sebastian, and sit on your bed. I'll be there shortly."

Uh-oh. My master might have been able to convince Sir Charles that it had all been an accident and a misunderstanding, but Marcellus wasn't fooled. I nodded and did as I was told, and as I sat on my bed I wondered just how long he would lecture me. I had a good feeling that I might be confined to my room for a while after he finished lecturing me, but I knew I could stand that.

It didn't take Marcellus long to come upstairs. When I saw the look on his face, I realized that I was in a great deal of trouble.

"Do you realize just how close you came to losing your life today?" he demanded.

"Yes," I said quietly.

"If he'd insisted I kill you, I would be digging your grave right now," he said angrily. "Didn't you even _think_? Show a little sense, child!"

Again with the child business! "I'm not a child, Marcellus."

"Your actions of earlier are evidence to the contrary," he said coldly. "So much so that I'm beginning to wonder just how old you really are, Sebastian."

I fought to keep my temper. Shouting at him now would accomplish nothing. I looked at him and for the first time, I noticed that he was holding one hand behind his back. It seemed that he was afraid to bring that hand forward; if he did, he was probably afraid he would hit me upside the head with it.

"I've been trying not to give Sir Charles a reason to kill you, and you practically handed it to him on a platter, Sebastian," he said grimly. "I don't know how else to correct you on this issue."

Now I was confused. What was he talking about?

"Lie face down on your bed, Sebastian."

My body obeyed, even though I fought as hard as I could. "What are you...?" I turned my head so I could look at him and when I saw him bring his hand from behind his back I had a sudden onset of clarity and a moment of pure panic. He was holding a walking stick. Surely he wasn't going to...

"This is the only way I can think of to drive the issue home to you, Sebastian," he said, moving my tailcoat out of the way. "I didn't want it to come to this, but you've left me with no choice."

It took far longer than I thought it would. I'd been sure that Marcellus would break the stick with the first blow; he'd been so angry, but it didn't break. In all, it took about ten minutes, which to me had become an eternity. What was it that human parents said to their children when administering such a punishment? This will hurt me far more than it will hurt you? Such utter nonsense! I, for one, could swear to it that the experience was far more painful for the one enduring it.

"Don't ever give me a reason to do this again, Sebastian," Marcellus said. "Now, get up."

Slowly, aching, I got to my feet. Marcellus still looked angry and I wondered if he was about to hit me over the head instead.

"Go sit down in the chair at your desk," he said. "I'll be back up after I've served and cleaned up after supper."

A hard, wooden chair. Of course. I did as I was told and I winced as my full weight settled in the chair. Ohh, that hurt. I didn't know if I could recover from this. The pain would fade, but the shame and humiliation would take longer. Much, much longer.

Marcellus said nothing else to me. He left me sitting there and went back downstairs, leaving me with nothing more than my thoughts and my aches and pains. My only comfort was that it was very likely my young master was in the process of being spoiled and fawned over by Sir Charles. I made a resolution that as soon as possible, I would check on him.

That is, if I was still able to _walk_ by the time Marcellus returned to tell me I could leave my chair.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sebastian's POV:

I knew that captivity could make the captive despondent, and I'd seen ample evidence in my young master's reaction to our situation, but for the first time, I was the despondent one. There was a good reason for that, too.

I was completely, entirely, and utterly bored. I was also confined to my room, imprisoned away from my young master and in disgrace.

I didn't know which was worse.

Several hours after Marcellus handed out his discipline; he returned to my room and told me I could leave my chair. It took me two attempts to rise to my feet, and once I was standing it took me several minutes to be able to move. I was very stiff and very, very sore and nothing could have made me happier than to wring Marcellus' neck. What right did he have to treat me in such a fashion? Even my most sadistic master had never beaten me! (Then again, I'd also frightened that man more than once, so it was fully possible that he'd been too afraid to do so.) As it was, I had to settle for glaring at him.

"Don't glare at me like that," Marcellus said as he helped me off with my tailcoat and loosened my tie.

"How would you prefer me to glare at you?" I wanted to know. I didn't care if he went to fetch the walking stick for another round, I was _angry_.

"You may not believe me, but I had to make Sir Charles think that you are being sufficiently punished for what you did, even if the young master has been able to make him think that it was accidental," he told me.

I blinked. "You're right. I don't believe you."

"As you wish, Sebastian," he sighed. "Sir Charles thinks that if you aren't punished heavily you may make the same kind of mistake again."

"So what will he have you do?" I snarled. "Daily beatings? Torture?"

"Nothing so dramatic," Marcellus said. "No, you're to be confined to your room until Sir Charles is convinced you've learned better."

"A madman deciding my fate? Horrendous." I couldn't help the note of sarcasm in my voice.

"Yes, truly," Marcellus said sharply, his voice dangerously low. "I'm starting to get the feeling that you haven't learned a thing, Sebastian." The temperature in the room dropped and I could see the shadow of his true form behind him.

"I'd already known just how much trouble I was in when you sent me upstairs, Marcellus," I snapped, determined not to be intimidated. "The point was borne home quite well when I heard Sir Charles order my death. You didn't have to use a cane on me."

To my shock, all demonic traces went away and he chuckled. "I'd thought that that would bother you a great deal, but you don't have to sulk over it, Sebastian."

Sulk? How dare he? Who was sulking? I was _seething_.

"I used a cane because your punishment had to seem severe enough for Sir Charles," he explained. "Were you aware he was up here earlier while I punished you? He wanted to reassure himself that I was actually punishing you rather than letting my kinder side get the better of me. Thank goodness I was harsh enough that he was convinced."

I hadn't realized that Sir Charles had been upstairs. "I didn't hear or smell him at all," I admitted, feeling afraid. "Can thrall…" I paused, but the question had to be asked and Marcellus was the only one who could tell me. "Is thrall deadening my senses?" That thought frightened me more than I could say.

"They're not being deadened, they're becoming less acute," he said patiently.

"_What?_" There wasn't a difference! A demon depended on his senses in order to defend himself! Any change or injury to them was of paramount importance! Once again, Marcellus needed to get his priorities straight.

"Ssh," Marcellus cautioned me. "Sir Charles is asleep; he's not _dead_. It's part of thrall. In time, the enthralled demon must rely on the one holding him to protect him."

I didn't like where this was going. "What?" Why was I repeating the same question over and over? Really...

"That's why the senses become less keen over time. Your strength will diminish, too, but that will take longer. The goal of thrall is not just obedience but also to ensure that an enthralled demon is entirely dependent on the one who put him into thrall."

"What earthly use would that be?" I groaned while Marcellus pulled out a fresh set of nightclothes for me to wear.

"In the early days of our kind, we were far too easy to hunt and kill for those who wanted us dead," he said. "We were still becoming what we were meant to be, and our minds didn't always advance as quickly as our bodies. The leaders among us created thrall in order to protect us while we developed. Using it, they were able to control and protect vast numbers of our kind, and once our numbers were stable and we had finished growing, so to speak, thrall was released and we were allowed to go off on our own. In order for our leaders to protect us, we had to have fewer ways to fight back, since naturally we fought such a process. Hence the lessening of our senses and strength."

Marcellus must have been truly ancient to know so much about the beginnings of our kind. It was likely that he was even older than I'd first thought him. Most demons thought that we'd always been what and how we were and that there was no way anyone could curtail any of our actions, but I'd heard stories of our beginnings while I'd been a child. I'd been told that we'd been protected when our kind was first beginning, but no one had told me that protection had been thrall. "Is that why obedience is so...pleasant...for the one forced to obey?"

"That's why," he affirmed. "They didn't want to hurt us or distress us unnecessarily, so they made obedience pleasant for the ones undergoing it."

I didn't agree with Marcellus' statement. I'd been experiencing plenty of distress since being placed under thrall.

"It's time you went to bed, Sebastian," Marcellus said, unbuttoning my waistcoat and helping me out of it. "Sleeping will help the pain to fade."

"I really don't want to sleep," I complained. The last thing I wanted to do at the moment was indulge in a luxury.

"What will you do if you don't sleep?" Marcellus asked. "There's very little in here to do."

Somehow, I had the feeling that was how it was supposed to be. I shrugged. "I'll amuse myself, somehow."

"I'd prefer you to sleep," Marcellus said firmly, continuing to help me with my clothes. In short order I was dressed for bed and he was helping me stretch out on my stomach. "There you are. It's better lying down, isn't it?"

"Mmn," I assented. I wasn't so sore lying prone, and with a pillow under my head I was very comfortable.

"I'm not going to order you to sleep," Marcellus said, moving the desk chair to a spot next to my bed and taking a seat. "Instead, I want you to fall asleep on your own, all right?"

"Why?"

"Because I'd prefer you to have a choice in at least one small matter," he said.

In the present situation, it was a deeply gracious gesture, if somewhat ludicrous. At the very least, I appreciated it. "Thank you, Marcellus."

"You're welcome," he said as I shifted and made myself comfortable. A moment later I felt his hand settle on my head and he began to stroke my hair, much the same way I would pet a cat.

"What are you doing?"

"Indulging myself," he said honestly. "I used to put my son to sleep this way. Is this all right?"

I hadn't known that he'd had a son and I could feel myself relaxing from what he was doing. "No, it's fine. It's kind of nice." I lacked the motivation to argue with him over something so trifling. I had done the same thing more than once for the young master. If he had a very bad nightmare or if he was ill with a fever, I often stroked his hair or rubbed his back until he calmed down or fell asleep. Now I knew why he fell asleep more often than not, it was very relaxing!

I didn't know when I fell asleep, but when I woke it was dark. My senses might be less keen than they had been, but I knew I'd heard someone in my room. "Who's there?"

"Sebastian?"

I gave a sigh of relief. "Young master."

"I came to see how you were," he whispered, creeping closer to my bed. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I told him. It wasn't a lie. I was fine, considering that I hadn't been killed when I'd thought that my death was imminent.

"Sir Charles told me that he had Marcellus punish you so you wouldn't make any more mistakes, as he termed them," he reported. "How did Marcellus punish you?"

"A lot of lecturing," I said. "That, and he used a cane on me so Sir Charles would think I was having enough of a severe punishment."

I could practically hear him flinch. "_Ouch_."

"Precisely, young master," I said dryly. "Are you all right? What happened after Marcellus sent me upstairs?"

"I sniffled for a little while longer and let Sir Charles fuss over me and give me countless cups of tea," he said, taking a seat in the chair. "I hadn't known I could pretend to cry so well."

"It was convincing, young master," I said. Indeed, _I'd_ been fooled! "How did you manage that?"

"I don't quite know," he confessed. "I remember being very, very angry when I heard Sir Charles give Marcellus that order, and the next thing I knew, my eyes were burning and watering, and from there it was easy to pretend to cry. Trying to breathe properly while crying is the next thing to impossible, so I sounded as if I were sobbing. That and the tears were pretty effective."

"Indeed they were," I said, remembering how Sir Charles' expression had changed. The man had seemed close to panic! The young master's "tears" had been very convincing and I'd been certain that they'd been real. Perhaps they _had_ been, and the young master just couldn't admit that he'd actually cried. I knew that he didn't like to think of his weaknesses if he could help it; in his life, weakness could mean death.

"Yes," he agreed. "Are you in pain?"

"Some," I admitted. "Not enough to bother about, though."

"Hmm," my master said. "Sir Charles is taking me to the British Museum tomorrow afternoon and we're having dinner at Simpson's."

"You should enjoy that, young master," I said, remembering his fondness for the museum. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"It's more fun when you go with me," he said. "You always know so much more about what we're seeing than any of the curators do."

"That's because I was around when most of those artifacts were created and used," I reminded him. "If Marcellus goes with you, he may be able to provide some of the same information." In my opinion, he might have been able to give far more information about many more artifacts than I could since he was several thousand years older than I was.

"He'll be with us, but you'd be more fun," he continued. "You'll be stuck here by yourself. You don't even have the gray ones for company."

That was true. They'd been left behind to guard Blackwell. "Well, I have the toy cat you've given me. It's just as nice as a real cat. He'll be company for me."

"Don't patronize me, Sebastian."

"My apologies, my lord," I said, fighting down a chuckle. He was still Earl Phantomhive, even while being held prisoner by a madman. "I was in earnest, though."

"Hmmph. It's just a toy cat." Even though he was being dismissive, I could tell that he was touched I had mentioned his gift. "How are you, really?"

I knew what he was asking. "Worried. Worried about our situation and worried about you, young master. Please be careful tomorrow."

"I know," he said. "Sir Charles can be dangerous. Don't worry, I'll be the perfect little Ciel he wants and he won't have any reason to be angry with me. Even if he does get angry, I'll just call him 'Papa' and give him a tear-filled glance. That always works."

"Let's hope it will continue to work," I said.

"I don't see any reason for it not to work," my young master sighed. "I'd best get back downstairs. Sir Charles might wake up, see my empty bed, and have a heart attack. While that might solve our problems nicely, he might just as easily avoid the heart attack and decide to be upset. That's the last thing we need."

"Quite, young master," I agreed. "Sleep well, my lord."

"You as well, Sebastian."

By the end of the next day I wondered if I should have asked the young master to smuggle me some books before he left. With very little to do, I became rather bored. Very bored. Very, very bored.

I was so bored I wanted to smack my head against the wall.

Before he'd left with Sir Charles and the young master, Marcellus had come to my room to give his orders. I was not allowed to leave my room at all unless the house caught fire. Then, I was to put the fire out and deal with any additional problems before returning to my room. (Any demon is able to put a fire out; it was unlikely a fire would consume the whole house, so I would have a room to return to.) With gas lighting and fireplaces in every room, fire was a real danger in a house. Other than that, I was to stay in my room. I was not to leave it.

Thrall would not allow me to disobey Marcellus' orders, and amazingly, I found myself wishing for a fire just so I would have something to do. A servant's room, even if that servant is a butler, is very plain. Plain, whitewashed walls, bare floorboards with perhaps a rug or two by the bed or in front of the washstand, an iron bedstead with plain white sheets and dark-colored blankets; that was all of the decor in such a room. Unless a servant put up pictures or decorated the room in some way, it remained plain. In my room at the Phantomhive estate and the London house, I'd put up colored prints of several paintings and installed bookshelves to hold a few books, and of course, I had my cats. I'd been content with those few items, but here, I had nothing to pass the time with. I had the clothes Marcellus had put in my wardrobe, the toy cat the young master had given me, and the furnishings. If I'd known before we left Blackwell that I was going to be confined, I would have packed some books.

I kept myself occupied as best I could. I allowed myself to escape into my imagination for a few hours while I remembered past masters and mistresses and their personalities. Then, I paced, despite still being sore. I looked out the room's one small window and watched the street below before gazing up at the sky and watching the clouds and birds.

Yes, I was very, very bored.

Marcellus' orders stood for the next two weeks while Sir Charles and the young master took in London. Technically, the young master was not supposed to visit me, but he crept to my room in the middle of the night. He told me about his day and what he'd done and seen. By the third night of his visits, I was ready to ask him for some books. The boredom would have been enough to kill a lesser man.

"Books?" he said, surprised. "Oh, you're bored, aren't you?"

"Very," I admitted. "I hadn't thought that it would become a problem, but then again, it's never been a problem for me before."

"That's because you've always had something to fill your time before," he pointed out. "I'll see what I can do."

The very next night, he was back with several volumes purloined from the library. One was a book of short stories, another was a general history, a third was a book of poetry, and the last was a book called _Warne's Model Housekeeper_. It had been published in 1882 and it was one I hadn't read. It looked rather promising and I gave my young master my effusive thanks.

"You're welcome," he said lightly. "Just try to make them last for a while, all right? I don't know if I'll be able to sneak up more anytime soon."

"These should be fine," I said. I intended not only to read them, I intended to memorize _Warne's_. There was a wealth of information in this book that I'd only been able to pick up piecemeal before. Committing its contents to memory would only make my job as butler easier.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

Sir Charles' London house was every bit as fine as my own London town house. The furnishings were lush, comfortable and tasteful in color, dark wooden paneling set off their color combinations perfectly, and a glass-enclosed conservatory on the east side of the house ensured a sunny spot to sit even on the coldest of days. The library here was smaller than the one at Blackwell, but the selection was still good. I had a nursery like at Blackwell, but I had to share a bedroom with Sir Charles once again. That was annoying, but more irksome was the type of bed I had to sleep in. I saw it that first day when he showed me where we would be sleeping. It was a child's bed complete with side guards, but it looked more like a crib. The only difference was that the guards weren't as high and I could get in and out of it myself, but really!

"I don't want you to fall out, Ciel," Sir Charles said when I complained.

"I am far too old to fall out of bed," I told him. "That's a bed for a baby!"

"You could fall out of a regular bed and hurt yourself," he persisted.

"Only _babies_ fall out of bed," I whined. "I'm not a baby!"

Usually, my acting like a child made him indulge my wishes, but it didn't work this time. That was so irritating that his refusal to change the bed surprised me into speechlessness. I was still speechless as he took me back downstairs to see the rest of the house and to have tea.

I expected Sebastian's actions when I heard Abberline's voice at the door. I almost went running out to the front door myself, but Sir Charles had been watching the exchange going on at the door from a window, and he was in the path of any escape. Also, I could tell he was keeping a close eye on me, and something in his posture and stance told me that any try on my part to attract the inspector's attention would end badly. I knew things took a turn for the worse when he saw Abberline turn around and look at the upstairs windows. Sebastian had done something to attract Abberline's attention.

I didn't have much trouble working up the hysterics that I knew would be needed to save Sebastian. Panic began to settle in my chest once I realized that Sebastian had done something and from there it was a short step to an all-out crying fit. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to cry, but I remembered in short order as I sobbed and shouted at Sir Charles. My actions won Sebastian a reprieve and I heard Marcellus send him up to his room. For a while I had to pretend to still be upset while Sir Charles plied me with innumerable cups of tea and even a few chocolates to get me to calm down. I did calm down...I think the liqueur in the chocolates were to blame for that, because I fell asleep and took a short nap. When I woke Sir Charles looked very happy about something and Marcellus was just announcing that dinner was prepared. I had a strong feeling that I had slept through something, either that, or they had left me to sleep where I was while they went somewhere else. The expression on Marcellus' face made me wonder if he'd prepared a funeral dinner instead of a regular meal. We had dinner (tomato bisque, canard a l'orange with greens, strawberry cake for dessert) and we spent a few hours in the parlor afterwards. I asked for Sir Charles to read to me, so he read to me from _Grimm's Fairy Tales_ until it was time for bed. I let him fuss over me once again as he put me to bed, but once I was sure he was asleep, I went upstairs to check on Sebastian.

I couldn't believe that I was able to approach him while he was asleep. Usually he woke if I drew near him, but this time I had about half a minute before he woke up and asked who was there. I was shocked when he confessed that Marcellus had used a cane on him. Ten to one, that was what I had slept through earlier. Once I was sure that he was all right and we'd talked a bit, I returned to my bed. It wouldn't do to have Sir Charles wake up and find me gone.

I did feel a few twinges of guilt while Sir Charles and I enjoyed London the next day. I enjoyed our trip to the British Museum (Marcellus did know a lot about the exhibits, but I preferred Sebastian's explanations) and reveled in the familiar atmosphere of Simpson's. I'd been there only three or four times in my life, but it was a place I'd been before. For a short time, I could pretend I was out to dinner with a business colleague and forget my troubles. The day of running about the museum and the heavy dinner took its toll on me, though, and I fell asleep in the carriage on the way back to the house. I woke up once just as Sir Charles was settling me in bed and I didn't feel like complaining about being put to bed. I was far too tired for anything other than settling into the pillows. The next day, we went to Madame Tussaud's and had tea in a cafe before returning home for dinner and to dress for Covent Garden. Once we were seated in Sir Charles' box, I enjoyed a few hours enthralled by Gounod's music, especially the final scene of the _Faust_. Marguerite's faith in God touched even me, and the final trio between Marguerite, Faust, and Mephistopheles was nothing short of brilliant. On our third day, we prowled Hatchards. We returned to Sir Charles' home late that afternoon laden with several parcels, all of them containing nothing but books. That night, ironically, Sebastian asked if I could bring him some books he could read to alleviate the boredom. The next night I managed to smuggle four of them up to him, and he was pathetically grateful for them.

I was glad I was able to do that one small thing for Sebastian. He seemed much happier with books to read, and I suggested that he hide them well so Marcellus wouldn't see them and possibly take them from him.

"Oh, I intend to, Bocchan," he assured me. "If he attempts to take them away, he'll have to fight me for them, thrall or no thrall. I will find some way to fight back."

"Knowing you, you would manage it," I told him. "I hope these make your confinement a little easier."

"I'm sure they will, young master." I stopped, hearing bells. "It's midnight. You should head back to bed."

I nodded. I didn't want to admit it, but I was tired. "All right, Sebastian. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, my lord."

"Good night." I left Sebastian's room and carefully made my way down the hall and toward the winding stairs that led to the floor where my room was. I still had to share a room with Sir Charles, but he'd begun to allow me to walk up and down stairs on my own without having to hold someone's hand. Usually, though, someone had to go with me. I really didn't care since I would take any improvement in my situation that I could get, even a small one.

Two weeks passed in this manner, with Sir Charles and I taking in London during the day and me visiting Sebastian at night. I quite liked the fact that I was defying Sir Charles by going to see Sebastian every night. He hadn't specifically forbidden me to do so, but he had told me that Sebastian was being punished by having to stay by himself. It felt good to give Sebastian some small bit of company. I could tell that he was limiting how much he read and that he was still rather bored, so I tried to think of a good distraction for him. I hit upon it one day when I was near the back wall of the garden. A few Grecian-style urns had been set up there to hold philodendrons and other such plants, making it seem as if the urns held a living green cascade. It made the area a pleasant spot and I liked to sit there on a bench and just _be_. That afternoon, two weeks into Sebastian's confinement, I felt a tug at my shoelace and looked down to find something that would definitely cheer Sebastian up.

How I managed to get the thing inside without it being seen was beyond me, and the fact that I got it and the needed supplies for it upstairs was nothing short of miraculous. I took the lot straight to Sebastian's room, to find him stretched out on his bed, reading.

My sudden appearance surprised him. "Young master? What are you doing up here at this time of day?" Unspoken was the fact that we could both get into trouble for my coming to visit him.

"I have something for you," I said, strangely excited. I pulled it out of my coat and held it out to him. "Look!"

His eyes fastened on the little creature and he was utterly lost. "Oh..." he breathed. "Young master...she's utterly beautiful!"

Beautiful? I couldn't believe he thought the kitten I'd brought him was beautiful. The thing was a scrawny little scrap of fur that might have been white if it was clean, but as it was, it was a dirty alley cat that had somehow gotten into the garden. It was filthy and already my hands were itching from being in contact with it, my eyes were watering, and I could feel a sneezing fit coming on. "Wonderful, you're in love! Take her, already!"

He moved to obey me with alacrity, his soreness and stiffness from his beating mostly gone. He lifted the kitten from my hands and cuddled it, one hand pressing on its paw to make the claws protrude. A second later he practically nuzzled the thing, but he looked up to stare at me. "Young master, what can I say?"

"'Thank you' would be a fine start," I said, holding out the bag I'd brought along. "I brought some supplies for it, too. A few rags so you can clean it up, a little brush, a tray and a bag of sand, some food for it and a bottle of milk."

He smiled. He actually _smiled_. "Thank you, young master! Thank you a thousand times!"

I sneezed. Damn! "You're welcome," I said, reaching for my pocket handkerchief. "Achoo!"

"Oh, dear," Sebastian said. "Are you all right, young master?"

"I'll be fine," I lied. "Just clean that thing up before my visit tonight, all right?"

"Should you visit if it makes you sneeze?" His voice was all concern and I had to fight down a wave of panic at not coming to visit Sebastian anymore. I hadn't really thought the cat thing through, had I?

"I'm sure it'll be fine once that little beast is clean," I told him. "I'd best get back downstairs before Sir Charles starts looking for me."

"Have a hot cup of tea, young master," Sebastian urged, still holding the cat.

"Mmm," I said, leaving the room and closing the door firmly behind me. I went downstairs to the bathroom and washed my face and hands several times before I felt a trifle better. I was still sneezing, though, so I put a cool damp cloth over my face and waited for the sneezing fit to end. That remedy had often worked in the past and this time it didn't fail me. Once I stopped sneezing, I went down to the kitchen to find Marcellus and ask him for that tea. I found him in the kitchen staring at the open door to the cold storage with a puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong, Marcellus?" I asked.

"I think I'm losing my mind, young master," he said, sounding worried.

"Really?" This I could not believe. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I was sure that I'd put several fish fillets in here this morning to use for supper tonight and I haven't opened this door since then until just now, and there's not a single fish fillet here."

Oops. It looked like the little furball would be having our dinner tonight.

"I'm positive I put them in here, and neither you nor Sir Charles would come down here just to hide fish fillets on me," he continued. "Sebastian is confined to his room, so it couldn't have been him...Well, never mind. I'll figure it out eventually. Is there something I can do for you, young master?"

"I'd kill for a hot cup of tea," I said. I meant every word of it, too. I was beginning to feel pretty wretched and usually tea helped me feel better regardless of what the problem was.

Marcellus smiled and closed the coldroom door. "No murder's required, young master. I'll prepare that tea for you right away."

"Thank you," I said fervently. Very shortly I had a cup of wonderful, hot tea in front of me, and the first sip felt like a bit of heaven slipping down my throat. The second, however, choked me as I started coughing.

"Young master, are you all right?" Marcellus asked as he deftly plucked the teacup from my hands so I wouldn't spill it.

"Fine," I wheezed. My chest and throat were beginning to burn the slightest bit, and when I took a breath I felt my chest expand, but very little air entered it.

Marcellus looked at me closely. "You're not fine," he said. "This is an asthmatic attack."

"Just a tickle in my throat," I gasped, still wheezing.

Marcellus lifted me from my chair and went running upstairs, calling for Sir Charles. In less time than it took to say so, I was undressed and in bed, a thermometer in my mouth. By that point Sir Charles was there, frantic with worry.

"I'm fine," I groaned around the thermometer, wishing I could stop coughing.

"You are _not_," Marcellus said. "I'll send for a doctor, Sir Charles."

"Quickly, thank you, Marcellus," Sir Charles said, trying to get me to drink some water. "Just hold on, Ciel."

"I'm fine," I repeated. Honestly, he sounded as if he thought I was dying! "This will go away on its own after a while. That's what it's always done."

"Quiet, Ciel," he told me. "Don't try to talk and just rest until the doctor gets here."

I could tell his mood was dangerous, so I was quiet, sipped at the water he gave me, and waited. It wasn't long before Marcellus was back, saying he'd phoned the doctor.

"Your usual London doctor is on holiday, Master," he said. "However, he did arrange for someone to be available for his patients while he is away, and Dr. Hollis' secretary said he'd send the man right over."

"Excellent, Marcellus. Thank you."

Marcellus bowed and hurried off to take care of...well, what did a butler do when someone was ill other than take care of the one who was ill? I'd never thought to ask Sebastian.

I must have fallen into a doze because I woke up. Marcellus was just entering the room, followed by a man in a brown coat.

"This is Dr. Phillip Lewis, Sir Charles, young master."

I sat up, staring my own doctor in the face. What was _he_ doing here? One wrong word from him and...oh, it didn't _bear_ thinking about! For once, death might have been preferable to seeing a doctor!


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ciel's POV:

I had sudden visions of death and destruction as I stared at Dr. Lewis. What was he doing here? One wrong word from him could drive Sir Charles over the edge into irreversible insanity and I would be…well, the situation would not be good. What was I going to do?

"Your man tells me that your son has had an attack of asthma," Dr. Lewis said, shaking Sir Charles' hand.

"Yes," Sir Charles said, wringing the doctor's hand in his. "You see, Ciel's only lately come to live with me, and I really don't know anything about asthma and he's been ill lately and…"

"My good man, I'm sure that the care you've been giving him has already begun to benefit him," Dr. Lewis said smoothly. "A patient with asthma always does better when he's comfortable, and so far you've done an admirable job of that."

Sir Charles seemed to relax. "Will he be all right?"

"I'll be able to tell you definitely once I've examined him," Dr. Lewis said. "You said his name's Ciel?"

Sir Charles nodded.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Ciel," Dr. Lewis said kindly, approaching my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," I said anxiously. A second later I coughed.

"Hmm," he said, taking out a stethoscope and putting it on. He pressed the bell against my chest and listened to my heart before shifting it. "Take a deep breath, please."

I followed his instructions for the next several minutes and was relieved when he'd finished. Trying to take deep breaths when you're having an asthma attack is akin to climbing a mountain using only a ball of twine for rope. It is difficult and painful and just short of impossible.

"It is an asthmatic attack, but it's not too bad," he said, folding up his stethoscope and putting it away. "There's no danger or a need for any medicine to help his breathing. With some rest, good food and plenty of hot drinks he'll be fine."

Oh, I could see where this was going. Sir Charles would hover and drive me mad being the perfect nurse and Marcellus would create enough culinary delicacies for an invalid that would put a master chef to shame. Together they'd bring me enough tea and hot milk to drown in until I was back on my feet. Either that, or dead due to a surfeit of nursing. Either could happen.

Dr. Lewis pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil and began to write. "Here are a few instructions to make his recovery a little easier for all of you," he said. "Also, I'm including a list of foods he should have and foods he should avoid, as well as activities and environments he should eschew for the next week or so. Good food, rest, moderate exercise and plenty of fun to distract him from his illness will effect a complete cure in time. Now, Sir Charles, do you have any questions for me?"

Sir Charles took the papers Dr. Lewis handed him as if he were receiving the Holy Grail. "Oh, this is wonderful, doctor. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Dr. Lewis said, placing the pad and pencil back in his bag. "I'll check back in a few days to see how he's doing."

He reached for his bag, but his hand knocked it instead, spilling its contents. Stethoscope, papers, and bottles poured across the floor. Fortunately, nothing was broken, but I hadn't realized that a doctor's bag could hold so much. It looked as if doctor's supply warehouse had ended up on the floor.

"Oh, my," Dr. Lewis said, kneeling down to gather up his things. "So clumsy!"

Sir Charles and Marcellus knelt as well to help him, but I saw Sir Charles pause as he pushed and patted a bunch of papers into a stack. "The care of a child should be undertaken by one who possesses a stalwart yet patient heart," he read. "What's this, doctor?"

Dr. Lewis looked a bit embarrassed. "Ah, something I'm writing," he said. "I've been entrusted with the care of my nephew and I've been writing down my thoughts and observations."

This was news to me. I hadn't known that Dr. Lewis had a child dependent on him. Was the Phantomhive estate paying him enough so he could support and educate the child? Hmm. I'd have to look into it.

Sir Charles scanned his eyes over the page he held. "Doctor, this is impressive! Would you mind if I talked to you about this? Do you have time now?"

"Ah, I have no further appointments," Dr. Lewis said hesitantly. "Really, Sir Charles, it's nothing but a lot of scribbling."

"I beg to differ, doctor," Sir Charles said, locating the notes the doctor had given him for my care. "Marcellus, would you watch after Ciel while I'm speaking with the doctor? Oh, and please bring Ciel a little something and some tea to the study for the doctor and I."

"Yes, sir," Marcellus said, taking the notes with a bow while he somehow finished cleaning up the doctor's things. "Consider it done."

Sir Charles bundled the doctor out of the room while the latter told me he'd see me in a few days. I watched them go, wondering just what had happened. Sir Charles couldn't be that excited over a bunch of writing, could he?

"Is there anything you'd especially like?" Marcellus said after looking at the notes he held. "I could bring you a hot drink, young master."

"That'll be fine," I said. I really didn't care if he brought me something; I was still concerned with Sir Charles' behavior. "Marcellus, why was Sir Charles so excited?"

Marcellus smiled. "He's consulted an even two-dozen books on your care and well-being, young master, but none of them were able to give him the information he was seeking. It looks like he's just found it."

"Books? He's been reading child care books?"

"Almost constantly."

I couldn't fathom it. "Why?"

Marcellus smiled and gave me a bow. "I'm sorry, young master. He's told me not to say anything to you about it."

"Tch."

"My, you're feeling better, aren't you?" he teased at my sign of annoyance.

"Tea would be nice," I hinted.

"Yes, young master."

As soon as he was gone, I settled into my pillows and sighed. My chest was no longer hurting and I could actually breathe better than I could before Dr. Lewis' visit. His presence in London was something that I couldn't understand, nor could I understand why he hadn't said something. While I was thankful that my situation hadn't further gone off merrily to hell, I was wondering just what had happened. I had a feeling that there was something going on that I couldn't discern. What was it, though? Some instinct told me that it had to do with Marcellus...

Marcellus brought me some tea after a bit and it wasn't long before I relaxed enough so I could sleep. Over the next few hours I slept on and off, dozing and enjoying the feeling of being cozy in a bed. While I didn't care for the bed frame, I did like the mattress and bedding; I was perfectly comfortable. Sometimes I was so comfortable that in the mornings it was often hard to wake up. Sir Charles hadn't scrimped on comfort, that was for sure. I woke up later that day long enough to have a light supper and despite having slept for a good part of the day, I went right to sleep again. Asthma attacks had always tired me and sleeping them off usually made me feel more like myself. I only hoped that this attack did not make Sir Charles hyper-vigilant. That was the last thing we needed.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

I was no longer bored. I now had a companion that could alleviate even the worst case of boredom. Instead of being bored, I was amused all of the time. My little kitten could take as much adoration as I could pour out and then some. Several times I reminded myself to thank my young master again for what he'd done for me.

I began my latest relationship by giving the poor thing a good rubdown with a damp rag. Cats hated to be soaked in water, so I did the best I could. After that, I gave her a good brushing and another rubdown. It wasn't long before her fur turned from a light gray to a pristine white. Then, I allowed her to have a good meal (where had the young master found filleted fish?) and I assembled the sand tray for her. As for a bed, she would be sleeping with me, but I did arrange a place in the bottom of my wardrobe where she could be comfortable, just in case Marcellus came.

After that came toys. Out of bits and odds and ends I made a little ball for her to chase and a string for her to hunt. A feather from the roof outside my window and a bit more string made the perfect toy for her to bat at with her paws. It wasn't long before she and I were playing together, and when she tired of playing, she was content to curl up on my lap and purr until she fell asleep. I amused myself by scratching her behind the ears and watching her tail twitch from time to time.

I had one bad scare that day when Marcellus came upstairs. Occasionally, he came upstairs to check on me, but why he had to choose today of all days to do it…As soon as I heard him coming, I bundled all of the supplies, toys, and the remains of her meal into the wardrobe, tucked her away, and made it back to my bed just before he opened the door. To his eyes, all appeared normal.

Well, almost. "Why is your window open?" he asked.

_To get rid of the fishy smell._ While she'd rather enjoyed her lunch, its aroma had been…pungent. "I thought a little fresh air would be nice," I said. That was nothing less than the truth.

"Hmm," he said. "It smells like a fishmonger just passed by. I'd better see if I can catch him."

"Why?"

"Fish was on the menu for dinner tonight, but it's disappeared," he said. "I'd best get going."

Oh, dear. I wondered if the young master knew his theft had been discovered.

Marcellus didn't return until about ten that night, and fortunately, I'd heard him coming again and had been able to hide my little darling away before he arrived.

"Sebastian, did you ever mention that the young master has asthma?"

My level of worry shot through the roof and headed up to the stratosphere. "Why?"

"He's had an asthma attack and he's been confined to bed by the doctor," Marcellus told me.

"Was it very bad?" I asked anxiously. "Will he be all right?"

"The doctor says he'll be fine with a little rest."

Relief, sweet relief, sweet, glorious, and beautiful relief flooded me. "Oh, good."

"So you knew he had asthma?"

I nodded. "Yes. He's only had one attack in all the time I served him, but that one attack was enough for me."

"Why didn't you mention it?"

"You never asked me."

He clapped a hand to his forehead and sighed. "Of course. I should have known."

I couldn't help smiling. Yes, he was a demon. He should have known that I wouldn't volunteer information; I had to be asked for it. This served him right for everything that the young master and I had endured.

"I was told that his symptoms can occur more often due to stress," I told him. "That, and being around certain triggers."

"I have a strong feeling there's an admonition in there somewhere," he said dryly. "All right. Is there anything I should keep away from him?"

"Dust, hay, and animals," I said, remembering how quickly his asthma had flared up while we were at the circus. Then I remembered my cat. How could the young master visit if I had a cat in my room?

"_Mrau._"

"What was that?" Marcellus asked.

"Ah…"

_Scritch scratch scritch._

Throwing me a confused glance, Marcellus followed the sounds straight to my wardrobe and lifted out my little friend before fixing me with a steely glare. "Sebastian, explain this."

"It is a cat," I told him.

"That was evident," he said. "What is it doing in your wardrobe?"

"That was where I put it," I said. "Isn't she adorable?"

Marcellus was examining everything that I'd put in my wardrobe and chuckled. "Well, I see that I'm not losing my mind. That's reassuring. Did the young master bring the fish up here to you?"

I nodded. I had to be truthful since he'd asked. "He did."

"Did he bring the cat and everything else up here?"

Again, I nodded. "He thought I could use the company."

Marcellus was thinking. "Sebastian, isn't the young master allergic to cats?"

"Yes."

"Could his allergy have triggered his asthma?"

"We can never be sure," I said. "However, it's possible."

"I see," Marcellus said, cuddling my cat. "Hmmm." He began to pet it, running his fingers over every inch of its fur before patting it and handing it to me. "There. This cat won't bother his allergy any more."

I'd missed something. "Sorry?"

"I removed the allergen," he said patiently. "It will need to be done again periodically as it wears off over time. This way, you'll be able to keep the cat and your having a cat won't bother the young master's allergies."

"You can do that?"

"As an Emmeridge butler, something so simple falls within my purview."

I had to laugh at that. "Of course." Thankful I was able to keep her, I took the cat when Marcellus handed her to me. I would have to think of a name for her at some point, one that suited her.

"I came up to ask you what you think might cheer the young master up," he said, watching me as I cuddled my cat. "Any ideas?"

"Is he in poor spirits?" I asked.

"He is ill yet again," he said. "He seems mightily discouraged."

I had to agree with Marcellus' assessment. Being ill again would definitely irk my master. "Music. A phonograph he could use on his own near his bed would help."

"Music tames a savage beast, hmm?"

"A savage beast?" I said, feigning surprise. "Marcellus, we are speaking of the young master, not me."

Marcellus chuckled. "I know that. There are times when I think he's about to rip Sir Charles' head off like a beast, so I've started to make the comparison more often than I'd like."

"Yes, when he's annoyed he does get snappish," I conceded. "Music and plenty of things to read and look at. When we were at home he did like looking at a book called _Illustrated Travels._ Would you have a copy here?"

"I can look, and if not, I'm sure I can find one somewhere," Marcellus assured me. "Aside from that, I came up here to tell you something. I think I've managed to introduce Sir Charles to someone who can get him to stop putting so much pressure on the young master."

"Did you?" I said, profoundly grateful. "Who? How did you manage it?"

"One question at a time, please, youngster," he said. "As for who, it's someone you already know. Dr. Phillip Lewis."

I stared. "What?" Some part of my mind wondered what the young master's reaction had been, but then I decided it wasn't important. Marcellus hadn't said anything about it, so my young master must have been able to hide his reaction well.

"I wrote to the young doctor and asked him to come to London after sending Sir Charles' usual doctor off on holiday and arranging for Dr. Lewis to stand in for him," he explained. "Also, I asked the doctor to put together a good packet of writing on the care of children."

I stared at him, not quite understanding. "What will that...ah!" I understood. "Did Sir Charles see it?"

"He did, and he and the good doctor spent about two hours in the study discussing the topic," Marcellus assured me.

"When did you start planning this?" I had to admit that I was rather impressed.

"Before we left Blackwell," he admitted. "I knew that the person we introduced to Sir Charles would have to be willing to work with us while we handled the situation and also would have to be the non-threatening sort. Plus, he couldn't be the type to do anything rash once the situation was made clear to him. I knew about Dr. Lewis, and he seemed ideal for the task."

"You've been busy," I said. "Very busy."

"But it's already paid off," he said. "In small ways, true, but it's paid off."

"How so?"

Marcellus grinned. He didn't just smile, he grinned. "Sir Charles ordered me to remove the guards from the young master's bed, and he's allowed the young master to spend some time alone."

I grinned back. "Perfect!" It occurred to me to ask something and I hoped the answer would be in my favor. "Marcellus, has Sir Charles told you when I might be allowed to leave my room?"

His grin faded to just a smile. "No, not yet, but I think he'll relent soon. He's relaxed somewhat, and I've been taking a little more time in my duties. Soon he'll realize that two butlers can do more in less time and then he'll liberate you."

"I hope so," I said, scratching my little cat behind her ears.

"Have you been very bored?"

"Yes," I admitted. "This little one is excellent company, but I would still like to be out of here."

"Reading doesn't help, I take it? You must have finished those books that the young master brought up for you."

I nearly dropped my cat. "You knew about that?"

Marcellus laughed, amusement plain on his face. "Oh, yes, I knew. I knew each time he visited you. The only thing I didn't expect was the cat."

I had to laugh. The situation was just too funny. I could imagine the young master sneaking about, trying his hardest to be silent, and Marcellus had already known! "Oh, dear. The poor young master. All that effort wasted."

"Let's not tell him," Marcellus suggested. "It would be kinder."

I nodded. "Yes, it would."

"_Mrau_," my cat agreed. The sudden mew surprised us both so much that we both started laughing.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

The worst part of being sick is always the boredom. When you're bored, you feel much worse than you actually are and the whole experience becomes harder to bear. I was a bit better the next day, but I was still coughing. I actually woke myself up coughing and soon after breakfast I coughed so much that I was sick. That made Sir Charles panic and send Marcellus for Dr. Lewis. Dr. Lewis came, examined me, and said that what had happened could sometimes happen and that it wasn't really anything to worry about. I would just feel wretched for a while.

Truer words were never spoken. I felt pretty wretched and since I had little to distract myself with, all I could think about was how wretched I felt, which made me feel worse. Sir Charles had left the room soon after Dr. Lewis. I felt so awful that I would have welcomed even Sir Charles' company. Why had he suddenly disappeared like this? The last I knew, he was afraid to leave me alone.

Marcellus took pity on me mid-morning. He brought in a phonograph, a stack of records, some books, and a stereoscope. He set up everything in easy reach of me and even located my favorite music and put it on for me. "Thank you!" I said gladly, relieved that I had something to distract myself with.

"My pleasure, young master," he said. "Sir Charles wished me to look after you while he's out today."

So that was why I hadn't seen him. Surprising, very surprising."He's out?"

"He's visiting Dr. Lewis," he explained.

"Why?" Couldn't he have talked to the man while he was here checking up on me?

"He said that he wanted to talk to Dr. Lewis a little more about your care," Marcellus told me. "Sir Charles is quite taken with Dr. Lewis and already counts him as a friend."

Poor Dr. Lewis. "I see." I thought about everything that had happened so far since Dr. Lewis' visit and realized something. "Did Dr. Lewis tell Sir Charles to take the guards off my bed?"

"He did," Marcellus said, smiling. "He told the master that such things on an older child's bed could undermine his self-confidence."

I blessed Dr. Lewis' good sense. Really, I didn't pay that man enough! "I'm glad that Sir Charles listened, then," I remarked, plopping back into the pillows behind my head.

"So am I. Is there anything you require, young master?" Marcellus asked.

"A cool drink, please. Oh, and how is Sebastian?"

"He's just fine," Marcellus said, smiling. "I left him playing with his cat this morning."

Marcellus knew about the cat! Oh, dear. "Ahh..."

"I was bound to find out about the cat sooner or later, young master," he said. "It's all right, really. You're a kind person, despite the aloofness with which you approach the world. It doesn't surprise me that you would do such a thing for Sebastian."

"It's nothing," I said flatly. Really, it was nothing important.

"To Sebastian, it is something," he told me. "But I shall let the matter rest. I must see to my duties for the morning, but if you need something, just ring."

"Thank you, Marcellus."

"You're welcome, young master."

Once he'd brought me up a cool drink, I didn't see Marcellus again for a while. I amused myself by reading for a little while, looked at the stereoscope pictures, and of course, I listened to music. I was deep in the _Eroica_ symphony when Marcellus brought me some lunch, and I had my meal listening to one of Beethoven's best works. Soon after that, Marcellus put on another record for me and I fell asleep listening to Brahms.

Sneaky demon.

I woke from my nap after an hour or so and I picked up the book I'd been reading that morning. _Ivanhoe_ was a good story, and I'd always enjoyed it. I was deep in the description of the tournament when Sir Charles arrived.

"Hello, Ciel!" he said brightly, carrying in a box. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel much better than I did yesterday," I said. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine, just fine," he said, carrying the box over to my bed. "I have a surprise for you."

I stared at the box. "What is it?"

"You'll have to open it to find out," he said, laying the box on my lap. "Go ahead."

With that encouragement, I untied the ribbon and opened the box. After wrestling with a bit of tissue paper I lifted out...Funtom's Bitter Rabbit. This toy was Funtom's latest Bitter Rabbit and so far it had sold very well, especially at Harrods. While Sir Charles removed the box and wrappings, I set the rabbit on my lap and looked at it. It looked so wonderfully familiar that two seconds later I was hugging it.

"Do you like him?" Sir Charles asked, smiling as he saw me hug the toy.

"He's perfect," I said, still hugging it. I was glad that I'd insisted the Yorkshire factory use the best kind of stuffing for this toy. It was a very nice thing to hug and part of me wanted to use it for a pillow. Well, I'd see how that worked out tonight.

"I thought you could use a friend to help you get better," Sir Charles said. "Over the next few days I'll be spending a bit more time with Dr. Lewis. He and I have a lot to talk about, but I didn't want you to get lonely."

I hugged the rabbit again. "I understand. I like Dr. Lewis."

He smiled. "I'm glad. He's rapidly becoming a good friend."

Once more, I hugged the rabbit. "Friends are good to have, even if they aren't stuffed rabbits."

My remark made him throw his head back and laugh. He seemed to have relaxed somewhat, but still I wondered just how this new situation with Dr. Lewis was going to play out. It would have to wait until I was better, and in the meantime...well, I had Bitter Rabbit to keep me company. This reminder of my life from before Sir Charles would definitely encourage me to get well as fast as possible!


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Within two days of asking when I would be free, I found myself liberated. True, I was still bound to Marcellus' will, but I was out of my room and that made me more than happy. I could now sympathize with Finny and his love of the outdoors. It was very, very nice to be able to go outside and be in the fresh air and see the sky and feel the sunlight instead of being trapped within four walls all the time. The only thing that was better was a litter of kittens.

Marcellus seemed to understand my eagerness for the outdoors and so if there was a chore that required someone to go outside, he asked me to perform it. I had never been so glad to take out the rubbish or trim hedges before. If I was outside, then I was happier than I had been in days. I did as he told me without complaint, inside or outside, and I was very careful not to draw attention to myself when I was around Sir Charles. I did not see the young master since Sir Charles had told Marcellus to keep me away from him. I found that irksome in the extreme, but I had to put up with it for the time being. I had a strong feeling that sooner or later the young master would make his way up to my room and then I would be able to talk to him.

About a week after my liberation, I was outside pruning the lone apple tree in the garden. It didn't really need pruning, but I had a suspicion that Marcellus had given me a pointless task just so I could be outside. For an enemy, he could be extraordinarily kind at times. I was absorbed in my task when I heard one of the sweetest sounds at the foot of the ladder.

_"Mrau."_

"Now, how did you get down here?" I asked, leaving my perch and scooping up the little ball of fur that was feline perfection. I still hadn't thought of a name for my cat, but I was beginning to consider "escape artist." This was the third time she'd made it out of my room and downstairs, but it was the first time she'd ever made it outside. I didn't want to think what would happen if Sir Charles saw her, so I hurried toward the kitchen door to take her back indoors. I was in such a hurry that I almost knocked down the young master.

"Bocchan!" I said gladly, happy to see him up and about. "It's good to see you! How are you?"

"I'm fine as long as people don't try to run me over," he said dryly. "Hello, Sebastian."

"Sir Charles won't be looking for you, will he?" I asked anxiously. I knew that the man didn't like me to be anywhere near my young master for long.

"He's absorbed in a book Dr. Lewis gave him," he said. "He won't think to look for me for a while yet."

_"Mrau."_

The cat's comment drew my master's eyes to the bulge in my coat pocket. "Ah, so that's where the little beast went," he said. "I saw it in the hall and I was trying to catch it before Sir Charles found it."

"She was in the garden," I said, opening my coat just enough so my master could see her. "Marcellus removed the allergen on her so you could visit me without troubling your allergies."

He blinked. "Can demons do such a thing?"

"Well, Marcellus can."

"Good to know," my master said. "Here, give her to me. I'll take her back upstairs."

If she had decided to be nice and sweet as she usually was, we would have had her back up in my room within a few minutes, but she decided to be strong-willed at the wrong moment. She leapt from my hands and streaked out the open door and back into the garden.

"Dammit!" my master hissed. "Catch it!"

Which did he want me to do first, catch it or damn it? I raced after my cat and marveled once again at how clever cats could be. She'd disappeared in mere seconds and she'd done it so quickly that even I had failed to see where she'd gone.

"Where is it?" my master asked, hurrying behind me.

"I don't see her," I confessed. "I'm surprised you're willing to help me look, young master." I was more than surprised, I was absolutely dumbfounded. Was this boy the same young master I'd known for the past few years?

"Nothing is worse than a depressed demon," he said flatly. "In this place, you'll need something that can keep the depression at bay. Can you smell it? Hear it?"

If my senses had been at their full strength, yes. As it was... "No, not really."

"_Awww_, what a little cuuutie!"

The master and I both froze. I felt as if I'd been turned to stone and oddly, I wished I could have been. From my master's expression, I could tell that he wished the same thing.

"Is that who I think it is?" my master gasped, wide-eyed.

"I'm afraid so," I whispered. "I think it's best if we go back in the house, young master. Quickly!"

I heard the front gate creak open as we turned away and we were almost there when I heard it: the knell of Doom.

"_Sebas-chan_!"

No, it was the Grell of Doom.

"Oh, Sebas-_chan_, I've missed you _sooo_ much!"

I turned in time to see him launch himself at me and I ducked, but I hadn't been fast enough. A second later I was sprawled on the grass with Grell on top of me. (It appeared that thrall had also slowed my reaction times somewhat. Oh, how I hated Marcellus at that moment for putting me in thrall.) I hit my head and my breath had been knocked out of my lungs and for a moment the world spun.

"It's soooo good to seeee you!" he squealed as I fought my way to a sitting position. "Look, I brought you a kitty!"

In his hands was my cat and for the first time in my life, I was not glad to see a cat.

"What are you doing here?" the young master asked as quietly as possible, glancing toward the house. "And why on earth are you dressed like that?"

"Please get off of me," I said, my head pounding.

"Oh, so sorry!" he said, scrambling to his feet. "Are you all right, Sebas-_chan_?"

"Aside from a nasty case of plague, I'm fine," I muttered, getting to my feet. "Now, what..." I stopped and stared. My mind refused to believe or accept what it was seeing. There were...no...words...for what our eyes were being subjected to. "I need some lye."

"Lye?" my master said, confused. "What do you need lye for?"

I couldn't say it, but I really, truly wanted some lye for my eyes, even though I doubted that it would be an effective method of getting rid of the sight in front of us. We were seeing Grell Sutcliff in a ruffled, beaded, and lace-bedizened dress and matching hat. In itself, the dress was a beautiful garment, one that might grace the frame of a society beauty, but on Grell...well, in my opinion, it was hideous. "Never mind," I choked. "Mr. Grell, could you tell us what you're doing here?"

"Ah, ah, ah, Sebastian darling," Grell cooed. "It's not Mr. Grell, it's Miss Ella Sutcliffe."

I stared yet again. Once again, I was at a loss for words.

"What are you doing here?" the young master demanded.

"Ella" lavished a sunny smile on the young master. "Why, I decided to pay Sebastian a visit, but he wasn't at either your London house or your estate, so I asked the people I did find there, and they told me you were missing. I told them I was sure I could find you, so your good friend asked me to come and check up on you. I decided to come incognito, as it were," he said.

"What friend?" my master said, confused.

"The one from India."

So Agni and Soma knew where we were, but they hadn't decided to make a frontal assault. Good. Subtlety was needed in this situation, for the young master's sake and for mine. I was still under thrall and the young master was still under Influence. He never said anything about it, but I knew that it still troubled him. I often heard him whispering Shakespeare's sonnets under his breath and whenever the voices and whispers troubled him too much, he sought out either Marcellus or Sir Charles for company. Spending time with either of them usually ended up as a story-telling session, with the young master asking a great many questions or asking for just one more story. Troubling? Yes, but all I could do was ask Marcellus to end Influence. So far, that hadn't been effective.

The young master groaned. "Perfect. When I see Soma I'm going to kick him right up the..."

"Such language in front of a lady, youngster!" Grell said reprovingly.

_Lady_? He was insulting ladies everywhere with such talk!

"So you're here in disguise," I said quietly. "However, the young master and I are in a bit of a precarious situation right now, so it's best if you're not here."

"Oh, Sebas-chan, my darling, after I came all this way!" he wailed while I fought down the impulse to throttle him.

"What's all this?"

Ohh, no. Sir Charles had just arrived. Wonderful.

"All those hours on a train! All that time looking for you!" Grell wailed, pulling out a lacy white handkerchief. "And you don't even want to seee meee-eee!"

"Sebastian, what's going on? Ciel, what are you doing outside?" Sir Charles demanded, striding across the lawn toward us. "Who is this woman? Why is she crying?"

_Woman?_ Had Sir Charles suddenly been struck _blind?_

Grell sniffled and dabbed at his eyes. "I thought you looooved meeeeeee!"

I was going to kill him. Ending his existence was the only option I had.

"Madam, please, calm yourself," Sir Charles said. "How can I help?"

Grell gave one final dab to his face and tucked the handkerchief away. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Grell said, still tearful. "It's just...I've looked so long for Sebastian, and he's behaving so coldly toward me!"

Sir Charles glanced at me. "You know Sebastian?"

"Of course I know Sebastian!" Grell gushed. "We are affianced!"

Suddenly I no longer wanted to kill Grell. Instead, I wanted to die, myself.

"Ah, when he asked me to marry him...I was the happiest woman alive! We both knew we would have to wait, but we didn't mind. We both had our obligations, after all. We wrote regularly, but lately, he stopped answering my letters. I went to the Phantomhive estate and the London town house, but he wasn't there, so I just started looking...and I found him! Our love was fated to be!"

Sir Charles stared at me and I could see what he was thinking: Does this poor, misguided woman know his true nature? He was correct about the misguided part, but not about much else...

"I'm afraid he hasn't received your letters through my fault, Madam," Sir Charles said politely. "I've been keeping him very busy. I'm Sir Charles Emmeridge, Ciel's father. You see, through several misfortunes, Ciel was raised by the Phantomhives and I only recently located him. When I found Ciel and took him to live with me, Sebastian thought it his duty to come with his young master."

"Ah, I see," Grell said, working up a watery smile. "Sebastian, you should have at least sent me a short note! You haven't been a lazy boy and wasted your time, have you?"

Where, oh where were those pruning shears? I'd settle for just a paring knife at the moment!

"Ah, I can see Sebastian's a bit of a reticent lover," Sir Charles suddenly chuckled.

Once again, I wondered why the earth beneath my feet was not opening up to swallow me whole. _Reticent lover?_ The embarrassment and humiliation I was feeling right now was enough to kill me. If it got much worse, I would welcome death.

"Please don't distress yourself further," Sir Charles said kindly. "May I have your name, please?"

"Ella Sutcliff, Sir Charles," Grell said politely.

"Miss Sutcliff, I hope you'll allow me to make all of your trouble up to you," Sir Charles said, playing the gallant knight. "I shall provide tea and we can talk about this situation, all right?"

"I'd be delighted," Grell said, simpering.

I couldn't believe this. Marcellus and I would be preparing tea for...Ella Sutcliff. Ohh, the shame. Ohhhh, the nausea.

_"Mrau."_

Somehow in all the chaos the young master had ended up holding my cat. The meow had drawn Sir Charles' attention. "Ciel, what are you doing holding a cat? Aren't you allergic to them?"

I was amazed when the young master suddenly cuddled the cat. "She doesn't bother my allergies, Papa. See? I'm not sneezing!" He buried his face in the kitten's fur and sighed. "Hmmm. Could we keep her?" The hopeful look my master gave Sir Charles would have melted a stronger man to a puddle and Sir Charles didn't stand a chance.

"I don't know, Ciel," Sir Charles said doubtfully.

"Pleeeease, Papa?"

It was a good thing that Sir Charles couldn't see Grell's expression. He would have wondered just why the "lady" was looking so shocked. I, too, was shocked that my young master had gone so far as to say _pleeeeeease_.

"The kitten can stay for now," Sir Charles said. "I will think about whether or not we'll keep her, all right?"

"Thank you, Papa!" The young master scooted off to the house, still holding the cat. I knew he'd put her somewhere she couldn't get out and she would be safe for the time being (also, she would not be able to cause any more trouble). Much more pressing was Grell's presence. Sir Charles told me to bring tea to the parlor before he escorted the "lady" inside and I returned to the kitchen. Had I dreamed this whole thing? No, I hadn't. I found Marcellus in the kitchen, prostrate with laughter, unable to speak. I knew without asking that he had seen and heard _everything_.

I couldn't stand it. "I hope that when he sees you, he decides _you_ are his new true love," I said savagely.

"You shouldn't doubt a lady's love, Sebastian!" Marcellus chortled, picking himself up from the floor. "Oh, my sides! I haven't laughed like this in ages."

I snarled and put the kettle on to boil. Idly I wondered if I could lace the sugar with arsenic. I didn't, of course. My young master might be at tea later. On top of all his other troubles, he did not need to be poisoned. Marcellus sent me up to the parlor with the tea tray and I had to fight down an overpowering impulse to strangle him. Of course he would send me upstairs while he stayed in the nice, Grell-free kitchen.

Sir Charles was chuckling about something when I entered, Grell was blushing, and my young master looked a little green. I decided I didn't want to know what Grell had said and I served tea as quickly and as efficiently as possible. I wanted to make my escape without any embarrassment.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic, Sebastian," Sir Charles said chummily. "To think you thought of sending your lady love two dozen bouquets of roses on her birthday!"

"It was quite the surprise, let me tell you," Grell said. "Ah, they were so lovely, I almost cried!"

Grell was being a bit heavy-handed in his story-telling. A butler's wages would not cover two dozen boquets of roses! Where was his mind? Then I remembered who I was thinking about, and the question didn't really apply. He had no mind to begin with.

"So, aside from being Sebastian's lady-love, what do you do?"

"I am a governess," Grell said, smiling. I had to fight down a shudder. He was more than a little revolting when he smiled. "My latest charge, Clarissa, has just gone off to finishing school on the Continent, and her brother has been sent off to school as well, so I am looking for another position."

"You taught both boys and girls?"

"Oh, yes," Grell said, actually giggling a little. "My family saw to it that I was educated and well able to teach either boys or girls."

Something in Sir Charles' question made me turn around and sneak a look at him. What on earth was he thinking?

"This may be a fortuitous meeting," Sir Charles said as I poured tea for all three of them. "You see, business matters have been taking up a great deal of my time lately, so I haven't been able to teach Ciel as much as I wish. Marcellus and Sebastian are both busy with their duties although they've played tutors in the past. I've been thinking of engaging either a tutor or governess for Ciel."

_NO!_ No, no, no! He couldn't do this!

"Why?" my young master asked. "Why do I need a teacher now? We're in London! We're here to have fun, Papa."

"But we also have to keep you caught up on your lessons, Ciel," Sir Charles reproved. "Do you want to be a complete dunce once you go back to your usual lessons?"

My young master appeared to think about it, but then he grinned. "Yes."

"Imp," Sir Charles said affably. "You know better than that. Lessons are necessary."

"Being a dunce would be more fun."

I could see what my master was doing and I was grateful for it. He was trying to derail Sir Charles from what he intended, i.e., engaging Grell as "governess." (The last thing we needed was a maniac shinigami on the premises.) My master knew that if he joked and teased Sir Charles long enough, he would forget about hiring a governess and I began to pray that it would work.

"Being a dunce wouldn't be fun at all!" Grell contradicted. "How would you feel if you were at a party and you weren't able to talk to people because you were completely ignorant of every topic of conversation? A good education will ensure that you're able to talk with people!"

Marcellus hadn't forbidden me to kill Grell...He'd only wanted me to serve tea...

"Ha! Miss Sutcliff is quite right, Ciel," Sir Charles said. "We do have to see to your education. Now, Miss Sutcliff, what are you able to teach?"

I began to fuss with the vase of flowers on the side table just so I could stick around and listen. The ruse did not work long, however, for Sir Charles noticed my presence and sent me back to the kitchen. I couldn't believe it. Sir Charles was entertaining a demented shinigami with tea, cakes and sandwiches, keeping my young master a prisoner, and I was stuck following Sir Charles' orders. The only way the situation could get worse...No! No, I would not think of that. I would not think of the many ways the situation could get worse I would jinx the situation, bad things would happen and then where would I be?

I was glad Marcellus gave me plenty of tasks to perform so I could keep myself busy. When the serving bell from the parlor rang I flinched as if I were hearing the knell of doom. Marcellus answered and returned twenty minutes later, shaking his head. "Well, that was interesting."

"What?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"It appears Sir Charles has engaged a governess, although rightfully, he should be called a tutor."

I groaned and dropped my head in my hands. "Please say you're joking!"

"I'm not joking. He'll be staying here as well since he does not live in London."

I choked. "_Staying_ here? You mean we'll have to..."

"We shall provide the best service, of course."

"Ohhh, no!" I said quickly. "Absolutely not! If he rings for anything in the middle of the night, _you're_ answering it!"

Apparently, I'd shocked him. He just stared at me for a moment and then threw his head back, laughing. It was a moment or two before he got himself under control. "All right, I'll be the one to answer." He kept chuckling.

"Marcellus, this isn't funny; this is an absolute disaster!"

"Why?"

I thought about it. "What if Sir Charles finds out that he's not a governess, he's a _he_ and is a shinigami? What if..." How could I explain just how badly this could end? "He may be here to..."

"Rescue you and the young master?" Marcellus said quietly. "I deplore your situation as much as you do, Sebastian, but please remember that I have my orders. I must keep the young master here with Sir Charles and I must keep you in control. Please, please don't do or say anything that will lead to Sir Charles ordering your death, Sebastian."

"Grell could say something that might make him want to do that," I said fiercely. "That's what I was trying to say!"

"Moi? Perish the thought!"

I spun around to see Grell standing in the outside doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Sir Charles has asked darling little Ciel to show me around the house and the garden while he finishes a phone call," Grell said. "My, this is a neat little kitchen!" So saying, he walked in and settled himself on a stool at the table. "You boys do a wonderful job, but it needs a woman's touch."

I fought the urge to back away. "I thought the young master was showing you around," I said pointedly.

"He'll find me sooner or later, he's clever," he said dismissively. "I think I'll enjoy having a youngster to teach."

"Do you actually know how?" I asked.

"Of course I know how!" Grell said quickly. "You tell children to do something and they do it. What's so hard about that?"

I had to fight down a smile. If Grell was going to approach the task of teaching the young master with that attitude, then I could count on being very amused while he tried.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

I wasn't pleased with having the shinigami for a teacher, much less having to call him "Miss Sutcliff" and behave as if he were an actual governess. I was less pleased with actually having to do lessons. Since my asthma attack Sir Charles hadn't taken me out into London and I was subjected to a doctor's examination every few days. While I was glad that Dr. Lewis was visiting so often and that he had gotten Sir Charles to remove some of the more onerous rules, I was beginning to find the routine tedious. School lessons did not improve it.

One of the few amusements I had was watching Grell make such a hash of teaching me. He had no idea what was in any of the books he was supposed to teach me from, and the lessons he did give me were things so obscure that I had no idea where they'd come from and thus, had connection to what I'd learned so far. I felt as if I'd been dropped into the middle of an advanced Oxford lecture being conducted in Sanskrit.

When I could, I avoided my lessons. If Grell was distracted by something, I would creep out of the room and make my escape. It usually took him a while to find me again, especially if I used the dumb waiter to move between floors whenever he stood sentry on the stairs, hoping to catch me. Once I overheard him muttering that I was nothing more than an unruly little beast. Said unruly little beast had no wish to spend his hours listening to a shinigami make a fool of himself, so I did what I could to evade him.

My other amusement (or annoyance) was the cat. Once again, I couldn't understand the attraction such things had for Sebastian. The thing ran about my and Sir Charles' room, shredded things, made messes, and was the true unruly little beast in the house. After two nights of being woken up by the creature I couldn't stand it and decided to take the thing up to Sebastian. He'd know what to do with it at least.

I had the surprise of my life when I saw Grell in the hall outside Sebastian's room, wrapped up in a red dressing gown. He was looking through a crack in the door and grinning.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"Shh!" Grell hissed quickly. "Be quiet!"

"Why?" I moved to his side to try to see what had him so enthralled. Then I realized what I was doing: I was _spying_ on Sebastian. Had I lost _all_ my honor and dignity?

"Just like that, little one," I heard Marcellus say. "Just like that."

Grell shifted and I was able to see what was going on. Oh. Marcellus was feeding Sebastian. It was nothing I hadn't seen before.

"Oh, this is so adorable," Grell whispered.

"You shouldn't be spying," I whispered back. Still, something about the scene drew the eye. The loving and tender look on Marcellus' face was identical to the expressions I'd seen my parents wear when they looked at me. As Marcellus drew his wrist away from Sebastian's mouth and Sebastian leaned against him, I had to admit that they looked like a loving father and his well-fed, sleepy son.

"Sleepy?" Marcellus asked.

"Hmmm," Sebastian said. "Very."

"Go to sleep, then, Sebastian," Marcellus said. "Let yourself drift off. It's all right. Sleep and dream. Sleep and dream."

Amazingly, I saw Sebastian's body relax and his head dropped back to lean on Marcellus' shoulder. His chest rose and fell and his eyes were closed. He was asleep. Marcellus held him for a minute longer before getting up and laying Sebastian back down. He proceeded to unbutton Sebastian's tailcoat and I heard Grell sigh.

"If he's going to dress Sebastian for bed, then this is something we shouldn't be watching," I whispered to Grell.

"Well, children shouldn't," he agreed with me. "You go off to bed now."

"Let me rephrase that," I said fiercely. "I'm not going to let you spy on Sebastian when he can't do anything about it and let you see things I know he won't want you to see."

Grell chuckled. "Hmm, and what things might they be, youngster?"

I nearly throttled him, but I was saved from my murderous impulse by the door opening. I nearly fell into the room, but Marcellus' knees saved me.

"Hello, young master," Marcellus said quietly. "Hello, 'Miss' Sutcliff. What are you two doing up here?"

"Oh, I found the youngster spying and I was trying to persuade him to go back to bed," Grell said.

"You did not, you liar!" I snapped. "I was trying to return Sebastian's cat and I found _him_ up here spying."

Marcellus took the cat from me and petted it. "I see. I think it would be a good idea if the both of you were to go to bed. I'll see you both in the morning."

With that, the door closed and something moved in front of it, blocking the view into the room. Grell pouted, but I was relieved. I knew Grell wouldn't waste time sticking around, and I was right. He stalked off to his room and I headed to mine. I was tired and cold and more than ready to go to sleep. I crept through the halls and into the room I shared with Sir Charles.

"Where have you been all this time, Ciel?"

The sudden voice and its sharp tone made me jump a mile. "Aah! I...uh, I took the cat up to Sebastian. It kept waking me up and since he's an expert on cats I thought he could do something with it."

In the dim light of the room I could see Sir Charles sitting up in bed, staring at me. "Are you lying to me, Ciel?" The quiet voice scared me more than a shout would.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

_"Then why are you scared?"_

He didn't believe me. Oh, this could be bad. "I'm telling you the truth!" I said. "I'm telling the truth, but you don't believe me, and the way you sound is frightening me! You sound like you're angry!"

"I'm angry to find you out of bed," he said, getting up and approaching me. "Now, I'll ask only once. Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes, Papa," I said, trying to keep the tremors out of my voice. In the dim firelight I could see his eyes and I could tell his state of mind was perilous for me right now. "I am telling you the truth."

Slowly, the fire in his eyes eased and he nodded. "All right. Into bed with you, then, and I want you to stay there."

"Yes, Papa." I allowed him to put me to bed and I settled into the pillows, shaking inside with fright. That had been too close. Far, far too close. I knew it would take me a while to calm down enough to sleep and I hoped that in the morning, Sir Charles would forget all about this.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Ciel's POV:

I knew I had to allay Sir Charles' suspicions. If he was suspicious, then he would watch me, and if he watched me, then I couldn't sneak upstairs to talk to Sebastian. There were times when the voices and Sir Charles nearly made me want to pitch unholy fits, but I was always able to hold onto my self-control when I remembered that I could always go upstairs and talk to Sebastian later. Lately, the voices had become dimmer, but now when Sir Charles was angry or upset with me, they became worse. There were times when I wanted to do whatever it took to placate him or calm him down just so the voices would stop.

Given the situation, there were improvements in some areas and setbacks in others, and I knew that I had to do something to reassure Sir Charles. I had to make him think that "his little boy" was up to nothing suspicious. I had to pretend to be the perfect child so he would begin to let his guard down again. Such actions on my part had been somewhat effective in the past and so far I'd seen nothing to indicate that they would cease being effective.

I started small. I began to seek out his company, much the way I had before at Blackwell. If Grell set me sums or grammar exercises during our lessons together I would sneak away from him and go to Sir Charles to ask him for his help. During my free time I would actually play. I spent time in the nursery playing with the toys and games or I would go outside to play. Often I would beg and plead with Sir Charles to leave his work alone and go out to play cricket or lawn bowling with me. I had to dig up some very old memories in order to remember what games I'd played when I'd still been in the habit of playing so he and I wouldn't do the same things over and over again. We played ball games and lawn tennis and croquet, and on one windy day he and I flew kites. Other times we played tag or hide and seek and once I drew inspiration from _Treasure Island_ for our game. With Marcellus' help, I organized a treasure hunt that Sir Charles and I could do together. Marcellus drew the treasure map and wrote the clues and together Sir Charles and I spent about two to three hours hunting a treasure chest that turned out to be full of gold foil covered chocolate coins and costume jewelry. I won't say that Sir Charles let me spoil my supper that day, but I came close to it.

Dr. Lewis' visits continued and it wasn't long before he cleared me to go out into London again. In fact, he convinced Sir Charles that it would be beneficial to me if he and I began our daily excursions again. Over the next few days we had a picnic in Hyde Park, attended a matinee performance of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, had afternoon tea in a café in town, and an evening at the ballet. One sunny day we went to Berkeley Square and had ices at Gunter's. We spent an entire day at Regent's Park and I loved every minute of it, especially boating on the lake and wandering through the Zoo. I was so tired that evening that Sir Charles had to help me upstairs so I could go to bed.

We also went shopping. Because of my begging and pleading, Sir Charles took me to Hamleys and while he was busy examining a chess set, I was able to ask one of the clerks how Funtom was doing. I could tell that he was surprised a child was asking, but I was pleased when he told me that sales for Funtom had gone up this past month. (I had a strong feeling that my saying the information was needed for a project I was doing for school was what made him tell me.) He even got me a copy of the sales figures in comparison with other companies and I thanked him politely before tucking the paper away. Sir Charles would wonder what it was for and I had a hunch that he would be less than happy if he saw me gathering information on what he considered part of my "previous" life.

I didn't want to admit it, but it was nice to have an adult focused on me. It was nice to have an adult giving me his undivided attention and to have him planning my days and arranging for me to have fun. While his fussing often annoyed me, it was also...well, nice. I knew that Sir Charles cared for me the way he would care for his own son and that was (I have to use the word again) nice. I felt secure and protected, not by a demon, but by another human being, which was something I'd never expected to experience after the deaths of my parents. Sebastian gave me his undivided attention at all times, of course, but then, a chef would give his full attention to a special dish he was preparing. I knew that I was his next meal and that the unordered things he often did for me and the nurturing and care he lavished on me were only to improve the "flavor" of my soul. If I felt a regard for him, then that was because I was human and couldn't help it; humans were social creatures and bonded with the people around them. I was sure that the only regard Sebastian felt for me was the same regard anyone would feel for their dinner when looking forward to a dish they'd labored over. I couldn't fool myself that Sebastian actually had a regard for me beyond that. To commit such an error would be dangerous. He was a demon, after all, and despite my being the master, he would always be far more powerful than I.

Where was Sebastian during all of my excursions into London? He stayed at home with Marcellus and Grell, poor man. (Yes, even I could feel pity for him.) On the one side, he had a person he was forced to obey and on the other side was someone who would give anything to have Sebastian obey him even once. If the two ever ganged up on him then the results could be ugly. Each time Sir Charles and I went out I expected to return to find the house a blackened ruin or a smoking hole in the ground. Since Sir Charles was now waiting for me to go to sleep before he went to bed, it became difficult to visit Sebastian, but I did manage one visit while the latter was in the butler's pantry one afternoon, polishing the silver.

"Sebastian?"

He jumped and nearly stabbed himself with the fork he was polishing. "Oh, young master. Hello."

"Hello," I said, taking a seat on a stool. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, his voice sounding unnaturally high for him. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Finished your lessons for the day? Ah, you haven't seen Grell around anywhere, have you?"

I grinned. "You mean Miss Sutcliff? 'She's' upstairs in the library, sighing over a romance novel. Why?"

Sebastian gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

"Is Grell bothering you?" I asked, concerned.

"Constantly," Sebastian said darkly. "It seems that every few minutes he pops out of nowhere at me. I'm beginning to be nervous."

Given Grell's "pash" for Sebastian, I felt that the man had every right to be nervous. He was lucky he had a demon's strength with which to fight off the advances of the "governess." Truly, he needed every bit of it with the vigorous way Grell pursued him. If he'd been human, he wouldn't have stood a chance.

A bell ringing brought both of us out of our thoughts and Sebastian checked the array of servants' bells and groaned. The only bell ringing was from the library.

"What can he want now?" Sebastian complained, rolling down his sleeves and pulling on his coat. "I know it's not the done thing in fine households for governesses to call for servants, so why Sir Charles has to insist upon it is beyond me."

I checked the time. "Maybe he fancies a cup of tea?" It wasn't tea time, but then, I did know that some people enjoyed tea any time.

"It had better be only tea he fancies," Sebastian said darkly, his voice promising dire consequences should Grell so much as dare to flirt with him. "Have a pleasant afternoon, young master. I'll see you later."

I returned upstairs and went to the nursery. I'd only been able to visit Sebastian since Sir Charles was out at a meeting with two of his investors, so I was left to my own devices for the afternoon. I distracted myself for a while before tea time and then I had my tea in the conservatory. I was just finishing when Sir Charles arrived, so I kept my impatience in check until he'd had a little something. I wanted to play the son he wanted so he would continue to forget his suspicions, and such a son would linger, hoping for his father's attention.

"What have you been up to today, Ciel?" Sir Charles asked once he'd had a cup of tea and a sandwich.

"Lessons, and lunch, and then I played in the nursery until tea," I told him. "Did your meeting go well?"

"It went just fine," he said. "It was a long meeting, but it went fine."

"Would you like to play a game of draughts with me?" I asked. "It could help you relax."

He chuckled. "That sounds like a good idea. Why don't you go get us a set and we'll play here in the conservatory?"

I hurried to get the board and bring it down. My plan was simple: To get Sir Charles to lower his guard and vigilance, I had to convince him that there was nothing more in my head than the plan to spend the rest of my life with "Papa." If I could convince him of that, then it was likely he would cease to watch me, and then Sebastian and I could make our escape...somehow. There was still the issue of Marcellus and thrall. The next time I saw Sebastian, I would have to tell him to learn all he could about thrall and how he could possibly fight or resist it.

Sir Charles and I played several games of draughts before going outside to take a walk around the garden before supper. The walk turned into an impromptu game of tag and we went in only when Marcellus appeared to summon us to the table. The evening meal that night was oyster soup, spinach and Mandarin orange salad, roast beef with potatoes and French beans, and raspberry trifle for dessert. Ahh, delicious. I could tell that Sebastian had cooked, all of the dishes had his flair. Grell usually ate supper with us and tonight he was full of praise for the menu.

"Marcellus, did you prepare dinner tonight?" he asked, taking a genteel bite of roast beef.

"No, Miss Sutcliff," Marcellus said with a little bow. "Sebastian made dinner this evening. Is it to your liking?"

"Ahh, it's wonderful," Grell said. "I always knew that man could cook!"

"You might have to fight him for the kitchen when you and he set up housekeeping after your wedding, Miss Sutcliff," Sir Charles said.

I nearly choked on a bit of potato and hurriedly took a sip of water. Mention of a wedding had led me to imagine Grell in a wedding dress and the mental image was not one conducive to good digestion! Grell gave a girlish laugh and blushed, saying that Sir Charles shouldn't mention such things.

"Speaking of Sebastian, Miss Sutcliff," Sir Charles said affably, "I've arranged for him to have next Sunday off."

Grell sat up, looking excited. "You have?"

"Yes, you and he will be able to spend the day together."

I could tell that it was taking all of Grell's dubious self-control to keep from squealing with delight. Poor Sebastian! I knew Grell had always wanted to spend the day with Sebastian, but to have him forced to do it...Wait a moment. Sir Charles had seen how uncomfortable Sebastian was around Grell, so was this his way of tormenting Sebastian? Would he do such a thing? I couldn't be sure.

Next Sunday arrived. Sir Charles and I were going to be attending services and an afternoon concert of sacred music at St. George's. I understood the chorus there was first-rate and I was looking forward to hearing some good music, but I couldn't help but worry about Sebastian. How was he faring on his time off? Was Grell being horrible to him? I could imagine any number of fairly unpleasant scenarios and I couldn't help fretting.

Sir Charles and I returned home for lunch before leaving the house again to go to the park. I saw no sign of Sebastian or Grell and Marcellus was the only other person in the house aside from us. He served us lunch and he paid no attention to my whispered queries about Sebastian. Most irritating. Sir Charles and I returned from the park for supper and I still didn't see Sebastian. Where on earth was he? Wouldn't he have wanted to end an outing with Grell as soon as possible?

When bedtime came I pretended to fall asleep shortly after Sir Charles read me a story. I knew how to convincingly fake being asleep (I'd learned how during my captivity, and it had saved me more than once) and it wasn't long before Sir Charles settled down and went to sleep himself. I waited until I was positive he was asleep and then I crept out of bed and headed upstairs to Sebastian's room. I found him sitting on his bed, petting the cat.

"Are you all right?" I asked, worried.

He jumped and frightened the cat. "Oh, young master. Don't sneak up on me like that!"

I couldn't believe he hadn't heard me coming. His senses were very keen and the fact that someone human had been able to sneak up on him was incredible. "I didn't mean to. Are you all right, Sebastian?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

I gave him a long look and waited.

"I'm convinced that there's something wrong with that shinigami's mind," he said at last.

"How was your day off?"

He groaned. "I'd rather not discuss it."

"That bad, huh?" I said, mustering every bit of sympathy I possessed.

"I never knew a picnic could be so excruciating," he muttered.

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. "A picnic?"

"At Hyde Park with a Fortnum and Mason's hamper, no less. Then we took a long, long walk around some shops, we heard a brass band in the square, and on the way back here we stopped at Gunter's for sorbets. It has been a very, very long day, young master."

"I can imagine," I said. He looked so miserable that I was concerned. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Eventually I'll be able to put this behind me, but I feel as if I need a very, very hot bath," he said.

"Grell didn't try to hurt you, did he?" I demanded. Grell's strength was about a match for Sebastian's, so it was possible. Sebastian's hunched shoulders and downcast eyes told me that he was not all right.

"Anything but, young master," he told me. "No, spending time with him was trying, that's all."

I nodded. "Well, thank you for being so patient and enduring his company."

His head snapped up and he stared at me.

"What?" I said, irked. "I do know when to thank servants for a job well done."

He smiled on hearing the tone of my voice. "Indeed, young master."

Good, he was feeling more like himself. "Tell me a story."

He smiled again. "Yes, my lord. Any requests?"

"The Black Forest."

With a smile and a bow, he began. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

Despite being a child, my young master had an uncanny grasp of a demon's emotions. He'd guessed that I was feeling wretched and set about making me feel better the only way he knew would work: reminding me of the role I had to play and what was expected of me. I hadn't thought he could be so perceptive or that he would actually care if I was feeling poorly, but once again, he'd surprised me. That was why I found humans so interesting; they never behaved in the manner you expected.

I wove my word pictures until the young master's eyes grew heavy. I encouraged him to go back to his room, but he muttered something under his breath and leaned against me instead. Since Marcellus had ordered me to remain in my room, I could not return the young master to his bed. I could always let him sleep for a while and then wake him.

It was nice to have my master so near me when he slept. The masters I'd had in the past always varied in the ways they slept. More than a few of them could not sleep if I were nearby; even though they were the masters and I the servant, they'd been afraid of me. Others had not been able to sleep unless I sang or told a story while others wanted me to stand guard while they slept. Humans differed so very much, it seemed. My young master was different from all of them. There were times when he had me with him because he couldn't sleep, when he wanted a story, or he simply wanted company until his fatigue helped him sleep. More than once, after a nightmare, he forbade me to leave him alone until it was time for him to get up. Often, my presence seemed to reasssure him and helped him calm his fears. It seemed that tonight he was drawing comfort from being with me and I knew that once he felt better, he would go.

I knew that he was trying to make Sir Charles to stop being so vigilant all the time so an escape on our part would be possible. In London, it would be easier for the two of us to disappear. I also knew that all of his playacting and plotting was beginning to take their toll. He was tense and worried and even when he was asleep he could not truly relax. I vowed to myself that once this was all over, I would see to it that he had a chance to relax and enjoy life a little. Doing so would be good for both of us and it would lend a bit of sweetness to his soul. (The thought of my next meal comforted me very much, but at the same time, it bothered me. It was beyond me to guess why.)

While my young master slept, I thought about my day. I had been dreading such an incident ever since Grell arrived and Sir Charles had made my worst nightmare come true. I was compelled to spend leisure time with Grell. Not only had Sir Charles arranged it all, but he had _ordered_ Marcellus to order me to do it.

Some day, somehow, I would obtain my revenge for that. That, and the clothes I'd been forced to wear. I couldn't wear my butler's uniform on an outing such as this, so a new leisure suit of clothing had been purchased for me. Since Grell liked me in black, I had to wear black, but instead of a white kerchief in my breast pocket, I'd been given a red one that matched my waistcoat. Sight of that red kerchief and the waistcoat had moved me to an emotion beyond anger, but I leashed it and told myself to put a positive spin on the day. I was not dead and I would not be doing onerous tasks. Then I remembered that the entire day would be one, great onerous task.

How I loathed Sir Charles.

Grell was elated at my appearance and gushed about it until I felt I should be sick. He was dressed in his finest, which would have been flattering on a lady but was repulsive on him. Sir Charles seemed to think Grell a lady and I had expressed my concern over Sir Charles' eyesight to Marcellus, but he assured me his master's eyesight was fine. Ah, well.

The picnic was a nightmare. Grell and I took a cab to Hyde Park after stopping at Fortnum and Mason's for a hamper. Sir Charles had given us spending money and a good fraction of it went for the hamper. It seemed Grell had pre-ordered it and the thing was heavy enough for a human to stagger under the weight.

"Oh, this spot is perfect!" Grell sighed once we reached the park and I had lugged the hamper a good distance. "We'll have our picnic here!" So saying, he spread a blanket on the grass and I was glad to set the hamper down. I was more than tired of being a glorified pack mule.

What followed were a nightmarish two hours. I had to sit on a blanket with Grell and endure his attention and fussing. Even worse, he insisted on feeding me.

"Oh, try some of this, Sebas-_chan_," he cooed, holidng out a chocolate-dipped orange slice. "It's divine!"

I reflected on his choice of words and wondered if he should even be trying to feed me something "divine." "I don't need to eat food," I reminded him in a low voice.

"But you can appreciate its taste somewhat, can't you?" he countered. "Open wide!"

It was either open my mouth or have the orange slice shoved between my teeth. The same thing happened with the smoked salmon, the cheese and biscuits, the Turkish delight, the pickles, the spiced nuts, and I forget what else I had to swallow. At long last the food was gone and we were left with an empty hamper, wrappings, and various empty boxes and jars. Even after cleaning up the detritus of our picnic, Grell insisted we linger to watch the clouds, feel the sunshine and hear the birds. That, and I had to listen to him enumerating the many qualities that he adored about me. Needless to say, I ignored that as much as possible.

After that came shopping. Yes, shopping. We wandered around the Burlington Arcade, looking in shop windows and occasionally venturing into a shop. Fortunately, only a few shops were open on Sunday so that most likely curtailed the torture somewhat. Then, we turned back toward Sir Charles', stopping in the middle of Berkeley Square to listen to a brass band. The weather was rather nice and the shade provided by the plane trees made the square an idyllic spot, if not for the harsh sound of the music or the presence of Grell. Human music is haunting and lovely, but there are times when less-than-expert players can slaughter even the best compositions. The band had stopped playing and Grell and I were headed for Sir Charles' when he stopped and stared at Gunter's.

"Sebas-_chan_, let's have something!" he said, pulling me across the street toward the shop.

"After a picnic?" I asked.

"Don't you want something sweet and cold?"

"Not particularly," I said, remembering all the sweets that had been practically crammed down my throat. Still, he insisted on having a sorbet before returning to Sir Charles'. It was customary for a lady and a gentleman to share the same sweet, but I refused to fall to that level and ordered two. He pouted, but my dignity was saved.

Returning to the house was a relief. Grell went away dreamily upstairs after saying our outing had been simply splendid and after changing back into my uniform I went downstairs to the kitchen to find Marcellus chuckling over the dishes.

"Did you have a good outing?"

I snarled at him.

"I thought so."

I needed to do something, so I took over the rest of the evening chores while Marcellus finished the dishes. I refused to talk about my day with him and shortly after Sir Charles and the young master headed to bed Marcellus took me to my room and told me to stay there. Happy to have no company more irksome than that of my cat, I sat on my bed and held her, petting her and scratching her ears. Listening to her purring helped me to relax and I allowed my mind to drift. I'd drifted so far that I failed to hear anyone approach my room and I was genuinely surprised when I heard the young master's voice.

It was good to see him. It was good to receive an order from him, which meant that he still considered me his butler and that he still thought himself the master. That was very, very good since it meant that Sir Charles had not cowed him or beaten him down. I was more than glad to tell him about the Black Forest and I was actually flattered that he chose to lean against me to sleep. He would hate me when I woke him up, but I wasn't able to leave my room to return him to his.

I was deep in my thoughts when I heard footsteps approaching. They were not those of Marcellus or Grell, and by the time I realized whose they were it was too late to do anything. My door crashed open and Sir Charles filled the doorframe. When he saw me holding the young master he actually growled and shouted for Marcellus.

By this point, my young master was awake. "What's going on?" he asked.

"What are you doing up here, Ciel?" Sir Charles roared. He sounded furious.

"I...I came to see how Sebastian's outing went," my young master said, leaving my arms. "He was telling me about it and I guess I fell asleep."

The look on Sir Charles' face said clearly that he did not believe what the young master told him. "Somehow, I don't think that's what happened. I'd hoped you'd learned by now that you didn't need Sebastian's company any longer, but apparently, he has some sort of hold over you."

"But, Papa...!"

"Quiet, Ciel!" Sir Charles said. "Marcellus!"

"Here, sir," Marcellus said, appearing behind Sir Charles.

Sir Charles whirled and locked his butler in a gimlet stare. "Marcellus, how would you break the hold Sebastian has on Ciel?"

I nearly panicked, but then I remembered my master's orders.

"He would have to disobey the young master for the contract to be broken, master."

"What does his contract entail?" Sir Charles demanded. "That he protect him and not hurt him, right?"

"Correct, sir."

Sir Charles gave a grim smile and I knew that I was in for it. "Marcellus, order Sebastian to strike Ciel."

"What?" my young master gasped. "You can't make him do that!"

"Oh, yes, I can," Sir Charles snapped, grabbing hold of my young master.

Marcellus was staring at Sir Charles as if he were horrified, but he did give the order. I wished I did not have to obey it, but I rose to my feet, crossed the room, and..._crack!_

I backed away, staring alternately between my hand and my young master's face. I could see the imprint of my hand on his right cheek and I could not believe what I had just done. Never, in all my life, had I _struck_ a master. I'd never had a reason to do anything so base. Even if one of my masters had angered me, I'd never felt the urge to strike one of them.

"Now see if the mark of his contract is still there," Sir Charles ordered.

I stood there dumbly while Marcellus removed my left glove. I had expected to feel the burning pain of a contract being broken, but instead, all I felt was the impact of my hand on my master's face. I looked down, expecting the mark to be gone.

Marcellus was staring at my hand.

"Is it gone, Marcellus?" Sir Charles asked.

"No, sir," Marcellus gasped. "It's still there."

"What?" Sir Charles said, shocked. "How can it still be there?"

I felt myself smile. So my young master had been right.

Marcellus saw me smile. "Sebastian, tell us what you know about this," he ordered.

I cursed myself for giving it away. I really should have known better than to allow my emotions to show! I fought against the order, of course, but the traitorous words made their way between my lips. "My young master ordered me to follow every order you gave me, Marcellus. He said that if I were obeying his order by obeying you, then I couldn't be forced to disobey him and our contract would be safe."

Sir Charles stared down at my young master, who smiled. "So it's true, Ciel?"

His smile widened. "Yes, it's true. You didn't think I was going to risk losing Sebastian, did you, Sir Charles?"

Sir Charles stared at him. "'Sir Charles'? You're supposed to call me 'Papa.'"

"My father is dead," my master said flatly. "I'm tired of playing your game. You're not my father, you're some madman who's fixated on me. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."

Sir Charles stared at him. "Somehow, Ciel, I don't think you mean that. I think that Sebastian is making you say that."

"He never forces me to do anything," he snapped. "You're the one who forces me to do things. Sebastian is my servant, and I am his master. So it will be until the day our contract is completed. Nothing more, nothing less."

Sir Charles gave my master a long, calculating look. "Marcellus, do you remember what we spoke about last week or the week before? About thrall and its layers?"

I stared in horror and fought the mad impulse to dive under the bed for cover. Thrall had _layers_? It could get _worse_?

"Yes, master. The deepest layer of thrall can break any link between a demon and his master."

"I want you to take away Sebastian's power over Ciel. I want them to have no link at all," Sir Charles said.

"No!" my young master cried.

"Oh, yes, Ciel," Sir Charles said. "I won't have Sebastian having any more influence over you. I want his power over you gone. Now, I'll let you have a choice here. You can choose to end Sebastian's life, or you can choose to have him put further under thrall and sever any link between you. Which is it?"

"Sebastian is my pawn," my young master said grimly. "I won't let you take him away from me."

"Then you'd best choose, hadn't you?" Sir Charles told him. "I'll even give you a chance at freedom, Ciel, since you're convinced you're not my son. You can choose to have him live and remain under thrall. If you choose that, then you remain here with me. If you choose to have Sebastian die, then I will allow you to return to the Phantomhive estate. "

I could have killed that man where he stood. How dare he push such a choice on my young master? I was about to charge Sir Charles, but then I heard him laugh. That laugh was of a man who had reached the very edge and was about to go over it. Frantic, I looked at the young master, hoping I could convey an idea to him...

I had never seen my master look so helpless and vulnerable as he did now. "Sir Charles..."

"Make your choice, Ciel," he said coldly. "You're trying my patience."

My young master looked from me to Sir Charles and back again. "Then...then I choose. I choose to have Sebastian live. I don't want his death on my conscience. I have quite enough already."

"You'll choose to have him live even though you'll lose a servant and you'll have to remain with me?" Sir Charles asked, smiling grimly.

"Yes."

For a moment, I was disappointed. I was used to my young master showing an unshakeable resolve, a determination that could not be broken, and now he was allowing such a thing as _sentiment_ for a _servant_ overcome him? I couldn't believe it, but then I looked at his eyes. I saw there the same determination I was used to seeing. Was he playing a game Sir Charles didn't know? Was he playing a game that I didn't know?

"Marcellus?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Put Sebastian in the deepest layer of thrall."

"Yes, master."

I wanted to run, but I refused to lose my dignity so much as to run, nor did I plan on abandoning my young master. I could tell he had a plan in mind, and this may have been part of it.

Marcellus paused. "Master, may I suggest that you take the young master downstairs? He may be frightened."

"Get on with it, Marcellus!"

"Yes, sir."

Marcellus moved so quickly that I didn't see him move. Suddenly, I was lying on my bed and his eyes were boring into mine. I fought to look away, but then the pain started. I gasped, trying to resist it, but then it became too much to bear. I screamed. The pain I'd felt before during my lifetime was nothing to this. I hadn't known that I could feel this much pain. I felt as if my body were being torn apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it!

"It is done."

The simple sentence echoed in my ears for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn't understand it. Who had spoken, and what was done?

"And the contract mark?"

"Gone."

Gone? What were they talking about?

"Is he sleeping?" I recognized that voice. That was the young master. What was wrong with him? He sounded afraid!

"His body is getting used to its new state, young master," the first voice said. It sounded familiar...Wait, that was Marcellus!

"What did you do to him?"

Suddenly, my eyes were open and I was staring at the ceiling of my room. I remembered what had happened. Marcellus had done...something. He'd put me in a deeper level of thrall. What did that mean?

"Ah, you're with us," Marcellus said, leaning over me so I could see him. "Can you speak?"

I tried it. All that came out of my throat was broken croak.

From nowhere, Marcellus produced a glass of water and helped me drink some. Why was he doing that? I didn't need water! But still...ah, my throat felt better. "I can speak," I managed to say. "What did you do to me?"

"I've put you in the deepest level of thrall," he said, setting the water glass down on the table. "Your contract with the young master has been broken. How do you feel?"

"Wretched."

"Did it work, Marcellus?" Sir Charles demanded.

Marcellus held up my arm and rotated it so Sir Charles could see the back of my hand. As he'd said, the contract mark was gone. GONE. How had Marcellus done _that_?

"Well done, Marcellus. Take care of him. Now, Ciel, you're going to stand by your decision. It's time for you to go to bed."

My young master nodded, but he glanced toward me.

"Ciel, Marcellus is going to take care of Sebastian, so you don't have to worry. Come along, now."

My young master must have been truly frightened since he went without a further word. Marcellus waited until they were both gone before turning to me. "Are you in pain, Sebastian?"

I thought about it. No, I wasn't in pain, but I did feel... "I feel strange."

"Do you feel as if you've become heavier?"

"Yes."

"That's to be expected. The feeling will fade as you get used to it. I am sorry I had to do this to you, Sebastian."

"Sir Charles was the one who ordered it," I replied. "Now that I'm in a deeper level of thrall, what does this mean?"

"I'll show you," he said, approaching my bed. He took a knife from his pocket and pressed it against my palm. A moment later I felt pain and blood welled up.

"What kind of knife is that?"

"A paring knife from the kitchen," he said.

A simple human knife had cut me? I stared at him. "How?"

He knew what I wanted to ask. "Human knives and weapons can harm you now. You'll also feel..."

A rumbling stomach interrupted him.

"Hunger and thirst. Human food and drink will be able to nourish you now."

I was mystified. "But why?"

Marcellus went to the wardrobe and opened the door. On the inside of the door a mirror hung, and in it I could see myself. I looked like myself, except...my eyes. They were no longer their usual dark shade, they were light blue. That, and when I looked at my hands...the nails were pink. What...?

"That is the deepest level of thrall," Marcellus said. "It turns a demon into a human. Some small, very small part of you is still demon since the change cannot be a total one, but you are now a human with a human's strength and senses and a human's needs. You also have a human's vulnerability. That is why the deepest level of thrall is so effective. Any demon put into it becomes wholly reliant on his enthraller to protect him."

I couldn't believe this. I could feel myself shaking inside. I was a human? I was no longer able to do any of the things I was used to doing?

"I will protect you, Sebastian," Marcellus said, sitting down on the bed and putting his hands on my shoulders. "I promise."

"How?" I demanded. "You have to obey any order Sir Charles gives you!"

"I promise," he said firmly, squeezing my shoulders. Abruptly, he pulled me into a sitting position and hugged me. "I promise, Sebastian."

He held me a moment longer and then released me, helping me to lay back down.

"I'm going to make sure our masters are in bed and then I'll bring you up something to eat. You must be hungry and thirsty."

Hungry? Thirsty? I supposed I was. My stomach was cramping and my throat was on fire and suddenly a meal of human food sounded very, very good.

"I'll be back," Marcellus said, heading toward the door. "Everything will be all right."

I didn't have to tell him that I found that statement very hard to believe.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I was vaguely aware of Marcellus returning to my room at one point. He bandaged the cut on my hand, helped me drink some more water and then helped me eat a bowl of soup. By that point I was feeling more...well, _awake_ and I could move, but my hands and arms refused to obey my mind. If I tried to pick up a spoon I ended up dropping my hand on it and launching it across the room. When I tried to pick up a glass of water I tipped it over instead.

"Why am I so clumsy?" I complained after Marcellus mopped up the water and refilled the glass.

"You're not used to functioning within a human body yet," Marcellus told me. "Give it time. Soon you'll be moving as easily as you did in your demon body."

I did not find that reassuring.

Marcellus insisted I finish the soup and the water and then, he dressed me for bed and tucked me in. "You need to sleep," he said. "You'll have to sleep every night, now."

"I don't want to," I said, suddenly frightened. Wasn't human sleep different from demon sleep? Demons did not have nightmares no matter how much death and horror they saw, but I knew humans did. Now that I was basically human, would my dreams frighten me? I'd seen a great deal during my lifetime…

"You'll have good dreams," Marcellus said, pressing a hand to my forehead. "Go to sleep, little one."

Before I could protest, I was asleep, and I did dream. I dreamed that I was a child again, in one of my favorite places and feeling safe there. There had been a garden in the courtyard of an abandoned castle somewhere in Scotland and I'd often played there when I'd been young. When I woke up I was surprised to find myself in my room; I'd fully expected to be where I'd dreamed to be. It had seemed so _real_. When demons dream, we know we're dreaming, but human dreams _seem_ real.

"Good morning," Marcellus said as he opened my door. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well," I admitted. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

I sat up and smiled. "Immeasurably better," I told him. I opened and closed my fingers, pleased that my hands were obeying me.

Marcellus smiled. "Try standing."

I did, and Marcellus had me walk about my room, bend over and touch my toes, and do half-a-dozen other exercises before he declared me back to my full range of mobility…or whatever was normal for me as a human.

"You should be fine now," he said, pulling out a suit of clothing for me. "Dress and put your room in order. I'll be waiting at the top of the stairs for you."

I did as ordered and together he and I went downstairs to the kitchen. I did feel different, but at the same time, I felt almost…well, normal. I wasn't in pain and I wasn't tired, and I wasn't ill, so this state had to be normal. Normal, that was, except for that odd grumbling in my midsection…

"Ah, you're hungry," Marcellus said.

"But I just had soup!"

"You had soup last night," he reminded me. "Humans need to eat often. Sit down at the table there and I'll bring your breakfast."

I did as he ordered and in short order there was a large plate in front me, filled with shirred eggs, sausages, fried potatoes, and toast with butter and apple jelly. I took the fork he handed me and began to eat (my dexterity had improved a great deal and I was deeply thankful for that), but by my third mouthful of eggs I felt my throat close up and my breath hitched. With effort I swallowed my present mouthful, but that didn't get rid of the feeling in my throat or the burning in my eyes.

I was eating a human meal and I was enjoying it. The hungry feeling, so intense and so different to what I was used to feeling was still there, but it had quieted at the first taste of eggs. I wasn't in pain and I felt fine, but I felt completely strange and very different to how I was used to feeling. Plus, there was that feeling in my throat and the burning in my eyes…

"Sebastian?" Marcellus said, looking away from his task. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I croaked, but then I felt moisture drop from my eyes. As if that had been a signal, a gasp of air escaped from me and…I recognized what I was doing. I was crying. Why on earth was I _crying_?

"Oh, Sebastian," Marcellus said as he saw what I was doing.

His kindness only made it worse. I pushed my plate away and buried my head in my arms on the table, my shoulders shaking as I sobbed. I couldn't believe how much I'd changed in just one night. I was crying…I'd never done that before, not for any reason. Really, demons didn't cry. There was no reason for them to. Crying was a human thing.

"It will be all right," Marcellus said, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close so I would lean against him. "I promise it will be all right."

"How?" I moaned. I couldn't see how this could ever turn out all right.

"It will be," Marcellus said. "I'll make sure it will be. All you'll have to do is hang in there, all right? That's all."

I wished I could believe him, but right now, I had trouble believing anything would be all right. My contract with my young master had been broken, I was human, and my young master was completely at Sir Charles' nonexistent mercy. This was as far from "all right" as any situation could be.

"What's wrong?"

I cringed away from the voice. Of all people I didn't want to see me like this, Grell was somewhere near the top of the list, if not the first.

"A hard morning," Marcellus said dismissively. "That's all."

"Because of last night?"

I felt my body stiffen. Grell knew about last night? I was sure he'd heard me scream, but I'd been hoping that…well, I didn't know what I'd hoped.

"You could say so," Marcellus said as Grell came into the kitchen. "It will take a lot of getting used to."

A hand came to rest on my head and ruffled my hair. "It will be all right, Sebastian."

_Sebastian_. Not _Sebas-chan_ or _Sebastian darling_, just _Sebastian_. I lifted my head and stared at him. He must have taken my look for one of disbelief because he hurried to reassure me.

"Oh, don't worry, things will really turn out all right," he said, giving my head a final pat. "Don't worry."

"I don't see how the two of you can think things can be all right," I said flatly, wishing I could stop crying.

"You're not entirely without friends here, you know," Grell said. "What Sir Charles ordered Marcellus to do...I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"You know about that?" I asked. Then again, he had seen my eyes, so he would know _something_ had happened...

"Marcellus told me everything last night after you went to sleep," Grell told me, taking a seat at the table. "It will be all right."

I sniffled. I actually sniffled, and Marcellus handed me a clean handkerchief. "All right?" I asked, mopping my face. "What do you mean?"

"You'll find out," Marcellus said. "Right now, you don't have to fret about it. Let Grell and I do the fretting for you."

"Why not explain it now?" I suggested testily. "I'm sick of not knowing what's going on!"

"Humans have a little more trouble keeping their emotions and what they know hidden," Marcellus said gently. "If we told you, Sir Charles might be able to guess what we're about to do to help you and your young master, and we don't want him to know. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"Well, forgive me for being human!" I snapped. I was about to unleash a vitriolic curse, but then I realized what I'd said. It struck me as funny and a second later I was laughing. It wasn't long before Grell and Marcellus were chuckling, but they stopped when they realized I'd begun crying again. "I'm sorry," I gasped, trying to get myself under control. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I shouldn't be snapping at the two of you; you're just trying to help."

"Human emotions," Marcellus said. "They're difficult to handle even in the best of circumstances, and these are not the best of circumstances. There will be a time when you feel calmer, but it will take time."

"It's taking too long!" I wailed, dropping my head onto the table again.

A bell rang and Marcellus cursed. "Damn. I have to take up tea and serve breakfast. Grell, will you...?"

"I'll stay with him," Grell said, patting my shoulder.

It took me a while to calm down. While I cried, Grell murmured reassurances and patted my shoulders and was just there. For the first time since I'd met him, I was grateful for his presence. Once I'd calmed down, Grell encouraged me to eat, saying I would feel better once I had a full stomach. He was right because a lot of the hollow feeling inside that had so upset me had been an empty stomach. I ate and drank and for the first time I was able to fully appreciate a good cup of tea. The aroma and the taste were so lovely that I actually gave a contented little sigh. No wonder the young master always had to have his tea!

I was actually feeling very calm when Marcellus returned an hour or so later. In the meantime, Grell and I had taken care of what we could, and while Marcellus began lunch preparations, Grell and I took care of the washing up. Oddly enough, it didn't bother me that...well, Grell had driven me mad and annoyed me before, but now I was glad of his company. It didn't matter that he was masquerading as a woman or as a human; I was grateful for his presence and the chatter about commonplaces that distracted me from my worries.

Marcellus put lunch into the oven and called us back to the table. "Sebastian, Sir Charles gave me new orders concerning you."

Ohh, this could be bad. "What were they?"

"Sir Charles doesn't wish to see you at all," he said. "You'll be restricted to the kitchen, back hallways and the servants' quarters, and you'll only be allowed in the back garden."

I stared at him. "All right. Will I ever be able to see the young master? How will I know if he's all right?"

"I can tell you, of course, and so can Grell," Marcellus said. "Grell is still the young master's governess, you see."

"Speaking of governess, it's lesson-time," Grell said, removing the flowered apron he'd pulled on over his dress and hanging it up. "I'll be back later! I'll tell Ciel you say hi!"

Marcellus chuckled as Grell scurried out the door and up the stairs. "You know, he quite surprises me, sometimes. There are unexplored depths to him."

I'd often thought that there had to be, but I didn't say so. Grell at the least deserved some consideration for his kindness to me that morning.

"Did Sir Charles give you any further orders about me?"

"The young master will be brought down to the kitchen once a week to see you," Marcellus contined. "Your well-being will ensure his compliance with Sir Charles, so Sir Charles has ordered me to keep you in good health. You're not to speak to the young master until spoken to. Do you understand?"

"I doubt the young master would wait for me to speak," I replied. "When he wants to say something to me, he says it."

"Well, we won't have to deal with a reticent young master. That's good," Marcellus said. "Now, let's get the rest of lunch ready and prepare your meal, all right?"

I learned a great deal about what my human tastes were that morning. I tasted a little bit of everything that Marcellus said was safe for me to sample and I learned rather quickly the differences between sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and savory. I learned how those five tastes combined in the dishes that we prepared and how to make sure that they balanced. No one taste should overpower the others and a dish too dominant in one flavor could throw the flavors of the others off. Even in desserts and other sweet dishes, a pinch of salt was necessary to make sure the dish turned out the way it should be and to offset the sweetness. Suddenly, I was able to understand all of the things I'd ever read about tastes and flavors. No wonder the young master had made such a fuss when my first attempts at making a meal had tasted wrong! The taste of food was just as important as it being cooked properly or how it was served!

I had a sudden, inexplicable urge to taste a little bit of everything in the pantry.

"Now, I have to set the table and serve lunch in a bit," Marcellus said, filling a plate and bowl with food for me. "Here you are. Cream of broccoli soup, a quarter of roast chicken and a jacket potato. Have your lunch while I'm upstairs. Enjoy, Sebastian."

My mouth watered. It was such a peculiar sensation that I didn't understand it at first. "Ah, thank you, Marcellus." I had to keep swallowing to stop myself from drooling (and what a picture that would make). Why on earth did human mouths behave so strangely? Fortunately, as I sat down and began my meal, the watering stopped and I was able to appreciate the tastes. Forty-five minutes later, I sat back in my chair, replete. I began the washing up and I had the kitchen in spic and span order when Marcellus arrived.

"Oh, thank you," Marcellus said. "Now all we have to do are these dishes and we can take a short break."

I smiled. For some reason, the tone of his voice and what he'd said had amused me.

"Did you find your dessert?" Marcellus asked. "It's in the icebox. Sorry I forgot to tell you about it before I went upstairs."

He'd left me dessert? My mouth watered again as I opened the icebox and pulled out a chocolate and strawberry parfait. "This?"

"That's it. I'll get some more wash water ready while you eat that, all right?"

I couldn't believe the taste of that bit of utter perfection in a parfait glass. Chocolate and strawberry and cream...I possessed no words that would suit the occasion. I lingered over the dessert, taking small spoonfuls and enjoying each mouthful. When the glass was finally empty I restrained myself from licking the glass clean only by a Herculean effort and I carried my empty dish into the scullery to make sure it was washed with the other dishes.

"I take it you liked that?"

"No wonder the young master likes chocolate so much," I breathed. "Oh, I enjoyed that very much, Marcellus. Thank you."

"So you liked it?"

"Mmm."

"Well, I can't argue with that." Marcellus chuckled and looked at me, then he looked again. "Hold still." In a flash his hand had reached out and brushed my chin. "You had a bit of chocolate on your chin."

"Oh. Thank you." I had? What a...human...thing to do.

We finished the washing up and returned to the kitchen to put things ready for afternoon tea. Once that was finished Marcellus went off on what he called a "housekeeping run" and I availed myself of the housekeeping and cookery books. I could always read something, but it took me less than a second to realize that my demon ability to read a book quickly had disappeared. Now I read at a human speed and I was still reading the same book when Marcellus returned. "I'm reading at a human level," I said, still feeling somewhat put out.

"I'd thought that would happen," he said, watching me as I read another two sentences. "Ah, well, you read rather quickly for a human. Don't let it worry you."

I was worried, but I knew I couldn't let it bother me unduly. I had to live how I was now, and so I would. Sir Charles would not batter me down with this.

* * *

My visit with my young master came later that week, on Saturday. I was seated at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes when Sir Charles and my master entered the kitchen. I jumped up, knocking over my chair and accidentally slicing my finger.

"Are you all right, Sebastian?" my young master asked, looking away from my cut hand.

"Yes, young master," I said quickly. "Just a little clumsiness."

"Try to move slowly," Marcellus suggested as he cleaned and bandaged the cut. In the past few days he'd become an expert at first aid since it seemed knives and hot pans refused to get along with my fingers.

"Thank you," I said, feeling rather sheepish. He made that suggestion at least once a day and I always failed to heed it.

"Are you well, Sebastian?" my master asked once Marcellus had finished taking care of my hand.

"Very well, thank you, young master," I said quickly. "And you?"

"I am well."

He looked as if he were ready to ask another question, but Sir Charles bustled him out of the kitchen and back upstairs. That was the way the next few visits went for the next few weeks. The young master and Sir Charles would be there barely long enough to say hello and then they would go back upstairs. I could glean precious little information from the young master's visits, but Marcellus and Grell were well able to supply me with plenty of information instead. Marcellus, of course, saw the young master several times a day and Grell was still "governess."

"I'd say he's depressed," Grell said one evening while the three of us sat in the kitchen.

I fought down my worry. "Depressed?"

Grell nodded and took a sip of tea. "Yes. Usually, the expression on his face isn't so gloomy as the one he wears nowadays."

I turned to Marcellus. "How has Sir Charles been treating him?"

"He's been a kind if very overprotective father whenever I'm in the room," Marcellus confessed. "I've seen Sir Charles reading to the young master and playing games with him, but I can tell that the young master doesn't enjoy any of it."

"That's true," Grell agreed.

"He's begun to hold the young master's hand again on staircases," Marcellus added.

Chill settled over me. "He has?"

Marcellus nodded. "It started just today when the young master stumbled just before he reached the stairs. Sir Charles saw it, and that was that. Also, he's stopped seeing Dr. Lewis so much and instead spends that time with Lord Phantomhive or reading the books he has. He bought one that worries me."

"Why does it worry you?" Grell asked, pouring himself another cup of tea.

"Its title is 'The Willful Child,'" Marcellus said. "The young master never does anything to show that he wants to defy Sir Charles, but I think Sir Charles senses it, so he bought that book. I looked through it while they were having tea today and it worries me a great deal. It says that a willful child will thank the parent who brings him to heel, but a child is not a dog. It seems that this author doesn't understand that. Some of the things the author suggested a parent do are...well, they're barbaric."

"What reason does the book give for doing such things?" Grell asked, sounding perplexed.

"Doing such things...the book claims that they'll calm a child and cure his rebellious impulses, and once they're cured, then the child will be happier," Marcellus sighed. "The author doesn't seem to realize that sometimes the child isn't the problem, it's the parents."

"Has he done anything the book suggested he do?" I asked. Why wouldn't Marcellus just say what the book had said? Were the things in it that bad?

"Not yet," Marcellus said.

"You sound as if you're waiting for something of the like to happen!" I said, getting to my feet.

"I won't allow it, Sebastian," Marcellus said firmly. "I promise that no harm will come to your young master."

_Your young master_. Sir Charles no longer felt that the young master and I had a bond, but Marcellus still felt the bond was there. That comforted me beyond any words I could express.

* * *

More days passed. Marcellus and Grell continued to keep watch over the young master while I busied myself with tasks in the kitchen, pantry, butler's pantry, and so on. I was kept out of sight of Sir Charles and away from my Bocchan. To make matters worse, the weather had turned gray and blustery, which had an unexpected effect on my mood. In short order I was depressed and miserable, and sometimes not even my little cat could cheer me up. It was worst at night when my worries kept me from sleeping and the wind and rain outside made everything seem so mournful and bleak that I _couldn't_ sleep.

When Marcellus realized that I was having trouble sleeping, he came to the rescue that night with a cup of herbal tea, a few sugared biscuits, and a hot water bottle. I wouldn't say that he tucked me into bed like a child, but it was close to it, and once I'd had the tea and biscuits and relaxed in my warm bed it was easy to become drowsy. I fell asleep that night feeling Marcellus smoothing my hair and hearing him hum a quiet song. The comfort of the night stayed with me all the next day until late in the afternoon when he came storming into the kitchen. His eyes were glowing and I could see the shadow of his true form behind him. What was wrong with him?

"Marcellus?"

Grell entered the kitchen right behind him, uttered something that sounded like "eep!" and dove at me, pushing me under the table.

"What's going on?" I demanded, wondering just what crazy freak the shinigami had gone off on now.

"Get down, get down, get down!" Grell said, using all his strength to press me face-down on the floor before lying on top of me to make me stay prone.

Oh, I was not going to stand this! "Grell..."

_Crrraacck!_

The concussive sound broke through the air and the walls and floor trembled. A moment later all of the china and the glass in the windows shattered into shards no bigger than grains of rice. Grell pressed his face against my back and covered my face with his hands while shards rained down around us. Once it was silent and the heavy feeling in the room eased, Grell left my back and allowed me to get up.

"What was that?" I asked, staring around at all the devastation.

"Rage," Grell said, taking a deep breath. "You're not hurt, are you, Sebastian? All that glass..."

I looked myself over. No cuts. "No, I'm fine. You?"

"I'm in one piece," Grell said. "Marcellus?"

Marcellus was standing there, statue-like and staring off into space.

"Marcellus?" Grell pressed.

Marcellus lifted his left hand and removed his glove, staring at his hand as if he'd never seen it before. Then, he smiled.

"What is it?" I asked, chilled once more. That smile...Then again, all the glass in the windows were gone, so of course the room was going to be a lot colder now.

"I've ended my contract with Sir Charles," he said, still smiling.

I couldn't believe it. "Why?" I asked.

"Because of what he's done to the young master," he said.

Panic set in. "What's he done?" I demanded. "Is he all right?"

"He's all right," Marcellus said, realizing his mistake in mentioning it. "It's just...he's enacting one of the suggestions from that wretched book. It's time to end this."

"What is he doing?" I asked, grabbing hold of Marcellus' arm. I knew that in my present state he could swat me across the room, but I had to know...

"He's using a sleeping harness on the young master to keep him from falling out of bed," Marcellus said flatly. "I told him not to do such a thing and that it wasn't necessary, but he insisted on it. When the young master realized that Sir Charles meant him to sleep in such a device he became hysterical, and then...Sir Charles ordered me to put him in it."

"And when you were forced to carry out that order, you decided to break the contract," Grell finished.

"Wait, you _did_?" I gasped. "You put him in that thing?" I knew what such a thing might mean to my master and I would be surprised, very, very surprised, if he emerged from this experience with his mind intact.

"I know what it means to the young master, which means that we must act quickly," Marcellus said. "Grell, you know your part. Sebastian, come with me."

I wanted to disobey him. I wanted to run upstairs and liberate my master from that wretched harness and from Sir Charles, but I still had to obey Marcellus due to thrall. He led me up the back stairs and down the hall to my room.

"What's Grell going to do?" I asked as soon as Marcellus had closed the door behind us.

"He'll be a distraught governess alerting Scotland Yard about the child in this house," Marcellus said. "You'll see, Sebastian, it will be all right. Now, I have to ask your forgiveness."

"For what?"

"I have to make it look as if Sir Charles has been harming you," he said.

This shocked me more than anything else. "What?"

"Grell is going to talk to Scotland Yard because he, as 'Miss Sutcliff, governess' is suddenly suspicious of her employer. Her pupil has told her that Sir Charles is not his father and that he lived on an estate outside of London before Sir Charles took him away. The child has confessed that he is afraid of Sir Charles. When Scotland Yard arrives, they'll find the child restrained upstairs in bed and they'll find a butler hysterical with relief that the Yard has come. This butler has been forced to follow Sir Charles' orders since Sir Charles has imprisoned that butler's nephew up here as a hostage."

"Inspector Abberline will recognize me," I reminded him. "Don't you think that will be stretching the bounds of credulity just a bit, to have Ciel Phantomhive's butler and the malefactor's butler related?"

"Not at all," Marcellus countered. "It's been known to have entire families in service."

I knew that was true. I'd once heard of a family where five generations of the men had been butlers. "And you have to make it look as if Sir Charles has been harming me?"

"We need to make the situation look as bad as possible," Marcellus explained. "There can be no doubt in the Yard's collective mind that Sir Charles needs to be locked away."

I nodded. "All right. Do what you need to do."

"I apologize in advance," he said quickly, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a smile vial. "Here, drink this. It will taste terrible, but it will accomplish what needs doing."

I didn't question him. I swallowed the contents of the vial and whatever I'd swallowed acted quickly. Vertigo hit and blackness descended and that was all I knew for a while.

* * *

"...bastian..."

What was that?

"Sebastian..."

That sounded very familiar.

"Sebastian..."

Wait a moment...

My eyes opened. I was staring at a plain ceiling above me and in my field of vision to the right was a gas light fixture, burning dimly. I didn't recognize this room.

"Sebastian?"

"Young master," I croaked, recognizing the voice at last. "Are you all right?"

"I'm all right," he said tearfully. "Do you hurt?"

Did I hurt? Now that he'd mentioned it...YES. What on earth had Marcellus done to me?

"Mr. Michaelis."

I turned my head to see Inspector Abberline. "Hello, Inspector," I croaked. What was wrong with my voice?

"It's good to see you awake," he said. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but I must get your statement."

"Statement?"

"About Sir Charles and the treatment you received at his hands. When we arrived at the house we found you locked in a room with a padlock on the door and chained to your bed."

Oh, dear. Had Grell seen that? I shuddered to think of it. The ramifications would not be...pleasant. I'd never hear the end of it.

"According to Mr. Marcellus, he said that Sir Charles regularly assaulted you physically whenever he wished to enforce Mr. Marcellus' obedience."

"Yes, he did," I said, amazed at how easily the lie had left my lips. Lying really _was_ a human thing.

"Will Sebastian be all right?" the young master interrupted.

"His doctor said that he will be just fine with some rest and good food," Abberline said soothingly. "Don't worry, Ciel."

Inspector Abberline didn't get my statement then. I fell back asleep, and during my lucid moments I learned how I had been injured. I had two cracked ribs, a broken wrist, and countless bruises and welts and even a black eye in various stages of healing. Most alarming were the bruises on my throat in the shape of fingers (that was why I found talking so challenging). I couldn't say that Marcellus hadn't done a thorough job of making his story seem convincing, but had he _had_ to be so...well, thorough?

I was in a private room at the London Hospital, which was where the young master and I were brought for evaluation after Scotland Yard descended on Sir Charles and found us. The young master was suffering from something called nervous exhaustion and I...well, my condition was evident. The nurses and the ward sister were kind women, happy enough to fuss over a man who had been imprisoned and the young boy who refused to leave him, although they tried with might and main to get the young master to return to the children's ward.

"Child, the doctor says you should be resting," one of the nurses said when she found my young master asleep on a chair in my room once again. "How will you rest like this?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I don't want to be away from Sebastian."

The tearful look he gave her melted her heart right away, I could tell. I fought down a smile. All that practice at getting Sir Charles to give in to him had come in handy.

"All right," she said, picking up a spare blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders. "I'll see what I can do."

It wasn't long before another bed was brought in and the furnishings rearranged to make room for it.

"There!" the nurse said happily as she made up the new bed. "Now you can rest and you won't have be away from Mr. Michaelis, so into bed with you, now, youngster." She was so efficient and business-like that in minutes she had the young master in a fresh nightshirt and in bed. She was used to dealing with children and I would learn later that she was the eldest daughter in a family of ten.

Where was Marcellus, you might ask? Hovering. When he wasn't talking to Scotland Yard, describing Sir Charles and his descent into madness and obsession and cruelty, he was at the hospital fussing over the young master and I. My "uncle" was a devoted older relative, it seemed, and he was often there, making sure I was comfortable, ensuring that I ate, and so on. He also explained why I had injuries that seemed older than they were, which had perplexed me. It seemed he was able to speed healing of injuries, so a bruise he'd just made could seem several days older than it was if he sped up the healing.

"I'm sorry about the pain you've been in, but I had to make it look convincing," he said quietly one evening while he helped me eat my supper. Having a broken wrist made it difficult to eat, so he helped me. "You should have heard what those men said when they found you. It shocked even me."

"I don't doubt it," I answered before taking another mouthful of soup. "What did they say when they saw the young master?"

He glanced at the other bed, where the young master was fast asleep. "Things not fit for a child's ears."

"He's asleep, Marcellus," I reminded him.

"He might wake up," Marcellus said. "I'm not willing to risk it. Let's just say that it was ghastly in the extreme and it called into question Sir Charles' sanity and decency and insulted his parentage for several generations."

It sounded as if those bobbies had been very, very creative, indeed. "Didn't the young master hear it?"

"Sir Charles had given him something to help him sleep," Marcellus said. "One of those patent medicine cordials."

Rage suffused me. How dared he do such a thing? Many of those medicines included alcohol and laudanum as their main ingredients!

"I'm told his cell in Newgate is very uncomfortable," Marcellus said quickly. "Dark and damp and cold."

"Good."

Marcellus continued to help me eat my meal for a few minutes, each of us silent with his own thoughts.

"Your doctor says you'll be ready to go home the day after tomorrow," he said. "The young master will be ready to go with you."

"This nervous exhaustion," I said. "Will he be all right out of the hospital?"

"He'll probably be calmer at the Phantomhive estate than here," Marcellus told me. "The doctor says that he just needs to feel safe again and he'll be fine."

How could my young master feel safe if I were not in my proper form? As a demon, I could protect him from anything. As a human...well, my ability to protect him had become practically nonexistent. "Wait a moment," I said as something occurred to me. If I were back in my usual form then the young master would feel reassured that he was safe and I wouldn't have to be limited to the things a human could do. "Marcellus, why are we waiting around for me to heal? You can just turn me back into a demon and then..."

Marcellus shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sebastian, but it doesn't work that way," he said sadly. "You'll turn back into a demon when you manage it yourself and not before. I've already ended thrall, but your true nature will take time to return."

I didn't know what to say or even if anything could be said.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I woke up two days later to see two bespectacled gold-green eyes staring into mine. It took me a moment to realize just what and who was staring at me. In the situation, I asked the only sensible question I could. "Why are you sitting on my stomach?"

Grell grinned. "I'm sorry. You know, you look so cute asleep that I couldn't resist and I just had to get a closer look! Did you know you smile sometimes when you're asleep? What were you dreaming about, hmmm?"

"Get. Off." I was very unhappy about waking up to something that reminded me of my nightmares.

"Oh, pooh, you're no fun," Grell muttered, doing as I ordered. "Aren't you happy to see your saving angel?"

I remembered the few angels I'd met and shuddered. "Don't insult yourself," I said. "I'm glad you alerted Scotland Yard, certainly, and I thank you for that very much."

Grell sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, a thank you is better than nothing, I suppose," he said. "I've brought you breakfast!" He held up a large white box and grinned again.

"Could you add a little peace and quiet to that breakfast?" I heard my young master say from his bed. "You woke me up."

Grell put a hand in front of his mouth and looked surprised. "Ooh! Sorry! I didn't think I was being so loud."

My young master emerged from his cocoon of blankets and glared at the two of us. His hair was sticking up in a million directions and he looked barely awake. If Lady Elizabeth could have seen him, she would have been squealing about how cute he was. "Where have you been these past few days, Grell?" he yawned.

"Talking to Scotland Yard, of course," he said chummily as he placed the box on a table and opened it. "There you both are: scones and sweet buns and sugar biscuits. Enjoy!"

The young master took a sugar biscuit right away even though it wasn't something one should eat for breakfast. "What were you talking to Scotland Yard about?"

"Oh, several things," he said, taking a seat on a chair. "Mostly about how he treated and spoke to you and the things that made me suspicious of him. They took that one book as evidence. You know, the man who wrote it is now under investigation for abusing his children."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said, thinking of _The Willful Child._ The whole tome had sounded deranged.

"The Yard has been discussing transferring him to Bedlam or some other retreat," Grell said as I helped myself to a sweet bun.

My master stared at him. "What? Why?"

"Sir Charles has begun talking to himself a lot, and a lot of what he says…well, it looks like he's had a break with reality. The doctor they asked to examine him says that he may have been on the verge of a breakdown for a long time and this latest event is what's broken the camel's back, so to speak."

If prison was unpleasant, then Bedlam was even worse. I was amazed when I felt a slight pang of sympathy for Sir Charles, but I wasn't going to let it bother me. "Have you told Marcellus that? What did he say?"

"He said he wasn't surprised."

"Speaking of Marcellus, where is he?" my master asked. "He's usually here when we wake up."

"Well, you two are leaving at noon today, and he's gone to make arrangements for you to return home to the Phantomhive estate."

I nearly choked on my sweet bun. Home. I couldn't believe it could be that easy, to just leave the hospital and return home, just like that. There had to be a catch somewhere. If there was, though, I couldn't see it.

"What will you do?" my master asked.

Grell shrugged. "Hmmm. I thought I'd come home with you two."

There was the catch.

"Isn't your office going to be wondering where you are?"

Grell looked surprised at the young master's question. "Not at all. I've been given some time off."

I had a strong feeling that his office had given him the time off so they could get some work done without him being under their feet.

"Besides, there's no where else in the world I'd rather be than where my Sebas-_chan_ is," he cooed.

And we were back to the Sebas-_chan_s. Oh, how annoying.

* * *

Marcellus showed up promptly at noon. With him he had my usual Phantomhive butler uniform and a suit of clothes for my master from his Phantomhive closet. As soon as the two of us were dressed there were some papers to sign for our records and then we were discharged. Marcellus led us downstairs and out the door and I was very glad to see the Phantomhive carriage and Bard, ready to drive us home. (Grell would be coming by the estate in a few weeks to see how we were, and I was glad for the short respite.) The young master, Marcellus, and I rode inside the carriage so we could talk.

"Have you been to see Sir Charles?" my master asked as we pulled away from the hospital.

"I saw him this morning," Marcellus said, leaning back against the cushioned seat. "He's been moved to the Bethlehem hospital."

Bedlam. Oh, dear. Well, that was just awful, wasn't it? I was practically radiating concern. (Inside, however, a smaller version of me was dancing and leaping about in jubilation and glee, but I hid it very well.)

"Grell told us that the Yard was considering moving him, but why did they move him there?" my master asked.

"He began saying that he'd signed a contract with a demon in order to get his son back," Marcellus reported. "When the poor man became violent, well, they really had no choice."

That surprised me. "He became violent?"

"He began screaming that everyone around him was out to steal his son from him and if anyone approached him, he attacked them," Marcellus explained.

"Hmm," the young master said, and that was all he said.

I fell asleep during the carriage ride home. I truly hadn't meant to, but the slight swaying of the carriage and the sounds of the wheels and horses' hooves lulled me to sleep pretty easily. I woke up when the carriage turned into the drive, and before too long we pulled up to the house. Waiting to greet us were Finny, Mey-Rin, Tanaka, and of course, our friends Soma and Agni.

"Welcome back, young master! Welcome back, Mister Sebastian!" Finny and Mey-Rin chimed as we left the carriage. Bard punched a fist in the air and welcomed us back at the top of his lungs while Tanaka gave a respectful bow and Soma and Agni intoned a greeting in Hindi. The staff took me aside and in an instant I was in the midst of a group hug. (Finny contented himself with patting me on the back instead of hugging me.) Surprising, I hadn't realized they felt any affection for me at all. While they greeted me I heard how impressed they were with Marcellus and how they weren't surprised he was my uncle. Once they were done greeting me, they moved on to the young master.

"It's good to be back," Bocchan said, sounding much more like his old self. He didn't get much time to greet his staff since Soma launched himself at his friend.

I tried to interpose myself between them. I tried to stop him, I really, truly did, but the amount of speed a young man of that age can build up in a just a few feet of space is entirely out of proportion with his physical capabilities. There was no explaining it and I ended up on the ground with the wind knocked out of me.

"My Prince!" Agni gasped, hurrying to help all three of us up. "They have just left the hospital! Please do not send them back!"

If that was the kind of greeting we were to receive, I had no problem with going back. There would be no energetic Prince Soma at London Hospital.

"Are you all right, Lord Ciel? Sebastian?" Agni asked, helping all three of us from the ground.

"I'm fine," my master said, brushing himself off while I did the same.

"Hello, Agni," I said thankfully. It was good, so very, very good to see a friend.

Agni stared at me. I noticed his eyes travel up and down my body and I had a strong feeling that all hell was about to break loose. Either that, or his right hand. "Sebastian, what happened to you?"

"Sir Charles happened to him," my master said, walking up the front steps. "Sir Charles was not kind to his guests."

Mey-Rin scrambled to open the front door, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs. In a flash Marcellus and Agni were there to catch her while my brain was still trying to get my feet to move. Usually I could have caught her, set her on her feet, and opened the door within a few seconds.

"Th-thank you," Mey-Rin fluttered, blushing.

It wasn't long before we were inside the house and I was struggling with a slight, panicky feeling that had lodged itself in my chest. I half-listened while Bard talked about how surprised they'd all been that I had an uncle like Marcellus and that they'd all seen the resemblance right away. I did my best not to be bothered by what had happened, but I couldn't stop Soma from running my young master over and I couldn't save a maid when she tumbled down the stairs. All I could do was...well, I could at least serve tea.

Or so I thought. Instead, I burned my hand, spilled the tea, spilled the sugar, broke a teacup, let the tea steep too long, and added sour cream instead of sweet cream to the cakes. Suddenly I'd become a weird combination of Bard and Mey-Rin. My final mistake was realized when my young master asked who had prepared the tea and he was very surprised when he learned I'd done it.

"I think you should have the rest of the day off to get some more rest, Sebastian," he said, setting aside his slice of cake.

"If you wish, young master," I said politely. I was very confused why he would say such a thing, though. "May one ask why?"

A gagging noise from Prince Soma gave me the clue I needed and I took the liberty of helping myself to a little cake. I shuddered at the taste and set the mess aside. "I see. My humblest and most abject apologies, young master," I said. "I'll clear this away and do as you suggest."

Feeling depressed and anxious, I took the disaster back to the kitchen. Agni followed me and urged me to sit down while Marcellus began to assemble another tea.

"I don't know what to do," I said as I sank into a chair, feeling quite odd. "I've never made so many mistakes all at once before." For a Phantomhive butler, for _me_, it was unthinkable to make that many errors.

"It will be all right," Agni said soothingly. "Even if someone's completely well, he can still have an off day. You've endured several months of imprisonment and abuse and you went right back to your duties. Although that's laudable, you are still not at your best, and when you're at less than your best you can make mistakes."

"That many?" I countered. "I looked like a complete tyro!"

"Not completely," he said lightly. "You had the place settings correct and the napkins and..."

"Don't patronize me, Agni. Don't you dare."

Immediately he looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I was trying to make you laugh. I'm sorry I went about it in the wrong manner."

I couldn't believe I'd snapped at him like that. "I apologize as well," I said, leaning forward to rest my head in my hands. "I shouldn't be taking this out on you." Agni deserved my displeasure least of all creatures on Earth. If anything, he deserved my utmost consideration and my deepest gratitude. In my absence he'd looked after the Phantomhive estate and made sure that none of the servants had wrecked the place. He'd even taught them a few tips and tricks to make fulfilling their duties easier for them and make their tasks less prone to disaster. I couldn't have managed that since demons just didn't think that way. For that alone, he deserved my most heartfelt thanks and instead, I had snapped at him.

I was being so..._human_.

I stayed in the kitchen while Agni and Marcellus took up a replacement tea and served it. When Agni came back downstairs I was staring listlessly into the fire. Now I knew why so many people described depression as crippling. That was how I was feeling.

"Come with me," Agni said, taking hold of my elbow. "There's something I want to show you."

He led me upstairs to the servants' quarters and to the door of my room. He led me into my room, opened the wardrobe, and...

"Oh," I breathed, dropping to my knees. "Oh, they're beautiful."

Four little kittens, only a week or so old, curled up around their mother. The mother cat regarded me solemnly, recognizing me as someone who wished to pay rightful homage to her children, so she allowed me to remain.

"Finny discovered them just a few days ago," Agni said quietly. "We moved the other cats to the attic since it seemed that Mama and her babies needed peace and quiet."

I became worried at mention of Finny. Infant cats were so vulnerable, what if he'd...?

"Finny didn't trust himself to handle them, so he got me to take care of them when it was necessary," Agni said, guessing the cause of my worried expression.

The boy had finally showed some sense! If possible, I was going to give him a raise in wages.

A bell rang somewhere in the house. "You stay here and adore those little scraps of life," Agni told me. "Try to get some rest. I'll see you tonight at the servants' supper, all right?"

"Thank you, Agni," I said. How inadequate those words were to express all I wanted to say!

He smiled and somehow I had the mad feeling that he understood. "You're welcome. I'll see you this evening."

* * *

The next few weeks were a trial for me and for everyone else around me. We had a parade of well-wishers and guests eager to welcome my young master back and I and the rest of the staff were kept insanely busy. I fought to keep my patience, but it was a Herculean task and I only had a human's strength with which to accomplish it. Needless to say, I wasn't doing all that well. By the third day after our return, I'd managed to master making meals and tea again, but that was the least of my worries. As at Sir Charles' town house, I was prone to clumsiness and careless errors that had painful results. The clumsiness had followed me home and the evidence was plain for the world to see. My hands and fingers were cut and burned and pinched and once even shut in the pantry door, but meals were made and served despite the number of bandages on my hands.

Added to my clumsiness were the human limitations I had to endure. Tasks took me longer to complete, I wasn't as strong as I was used to being, and by the end of the day I was so exhausted that even falling asleep was a trial. Marcellus and Agni helped as much as they could and with the three of us we should have had no problems, but there were days when we just barely finished all that we needed to do.

I was very glad when I saw that my young master seemed calmer. His appetite improved and his nightmares started to taper off as time passed. Oh, there were nights when I could hear him screaming even in my room, but Marcellus, Agni and I were always there within minutes to help reassure him that he was safe. Sometimes, though, my presence was all that he needed. He and I had the shared experience of our captivity, so once again, just as we had while we were under Sir Charles' thumb, we talked and reassured each other. I did not tell him that I sometimes had nightmares. To do that would have shaken what little faith he had left in me. He was still my young master even though the mark of our contract was gone. I would continue to protect him to the best of my ability, even if it killed me.

Our lives began to settle again. It took me some time to find my stride as a human butler, but find it I did. Tasks took me longer now since I no longer had a demon's speed, so I planned accordingly. I woke early in the morning to deal with what I could and during the day Agni and Marcellus assisted me. I think they both sensed that I wanted to do my job as much as possible and they only stepped in to help when something was truly beyond me, like the time when there were five loads of laundry to do and I had only twenty minutes before I had to prepare tea. While I took care of the tea, they and Mey-Rin took care of the laundry.

Did I get frustrated at the change in my circumstances? Yes. Was I angry at said circumstances? Very. Did I find my new human nature irritating. Of course. Was I tired? Constantly. It seemed as if I could never get enough sleep since I rose at five-thirty every morning and some nights I didn't get to bed until eleven. Both Marcellus and Agni urged me to cut back on what I was doing and to rest a little more, but I was adamant that I do as much as I could. I was still Sebastian Michaelis and I had a job to do and a young master to serve. I didn't learn until much later that the pair of them often spoke to my young master, asking him to order me to rest.

The young master and I had been home close to a month when I got up one morning feeling absolutely wretched. My head pounded, my throat was sore, and I felt as if I hadn't slept at all. Nonetheless, I got up and went about my early-morning duties. At first I managed to do what needed done, but by the time I had to start getting things ready for breakfast I ran out of steam. Agni and Marcellus found me sitting at the kitchen table, unable to do much more than sit there staring at nothing.

"Sebastian, are you all right?" Agni asked as he and Marcellus entered the kitchen.

"I'm fine," I croaked. "Just a little tired, is all."

Marcellus and Agni both fixed me with a stare. "You're not fine!" the latter said. "You sound as if you're ill!"

"Nonsense," I rasped, wishing my throat would behave. "Have you ever known me to be ill?"

"I agree with Agni," Marcellus said thoughtfully. "You sound terrible."

"I feel..."

"Horrible," Agni interrupted. "Don't try to mislead us, Sebastian. You're ill and you need to rest."

The two of them had been spending far too much time together because when they moved they behaved like a well-drilled team. Within ten minutes I was upstairs in my room, dressed in my nightclothes, and put to bed. I hadn't had to lift even one finger.

"We'll tell Lord Ciel that you're unwell," Agni said while Marcellus tucked the blankets around me.

"And Agni and I will handle everything until you're well," Marcellus added. "Don't you worry."

"This is really unnecessary," I said, trying to sit up. Marcellus had his hand on my shoulder, keeping me down and really, that just wasn't fair.

"Now you listen here, young man," Marcellus said firmly, sounding just like the human uncle he was pretending to be. "We've told you before this to rest and you didn't take our advice. Now you've made yourself ill and now you will _rest_. Do you understand, Sebastian?"

He meant business. The tone of his voice could not be mistaken. "Yes, Marcellus. I understand." I not only sounded meek, I felt meek.

"Good lad," Marcellus said warmly, patting my shoulder before smoothing my hair. "I'll be back up in a bit with a little something for you to eat and drink, all right?"

I nodded and settled into my pillows. It looked as if I didn't have a choice. I let myself slip into a doze and woke up long enough to eat what Marcellus brought me.

"Agni is take care of the young master and Prince Soma, and the rest of the servants are following our instructions to the letter, so I have a little time to spend up here with you," he said, pulling out a book. "Would you like me to read to you?"

I felt myself smile. "That sounds perfect."

Marcellus read to me for a while, but when it became clear that I couldn't follow the story any longer, he put the book aside and just sat with me, stroking my hair or patting my shoulder. Those two actions were profoundly soporific in my present state and it wasn't long before I fell into a deep slumber. I'm sure that if Bard had blown up the kitchen I wouldn't have twitched.

The next few days I spent in bed, and for the first time I understood the attraction of what Prince Soma had been talking about when he'd told me that children liked to have people fuss over them when they are ill. Not only children but adults (and one certain demon in a human body) could also learn to enjoy being fussed over. Since I had never been ill in all my time as the Phantomhive butler, my coming down with something came as a considerable shock to the other servants. What came as a considerable shock to me was the fact that they found my illness so distressing. Once Agni and Marcellus explained the situation to them, Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin all made their separate ways to my room to express their hopes that I would be well again soon. With them they brought get-well gifts: Bard brought up a tea that he'd made from a recipe inherited from his grandmother that he promised would have me on my feet again in no time, Finny brought up a vase of flowers that he said would cheer me up, and Mey-Rin brought fresh water and a variety of teas, a warm blanket, books from the library, and so on. I hadn't realized she was such a latent nurse-like personality. Tanaka visited me often just to give me the company of another person and when he had to leave, the cats kept me from being lonely.

Marcellus and Agni gave me as much of their company as they could, but a large estate required a great deal of work to keep it running. Mostly in the evenings, after Prince Soma and the young master had eaten supper and were amusing themselves, they came to see me to chat about the day and to spend time with me. Sometimes they each came alone since the other was busy. When Agni came alone he and I chatted, played games, and enjoyed one another's company. He would fuss over me as much as I allowed him to, but mostly what I wanted was company. Although the cats were wonderful, they weren't humans, and since I had a human's emotions, I craved human company. If you isolated a human from others of his kind he risked madness and despair, so I always felt easier when I had someone with me. Human emotions were still new to me and I had no idea just how much solitude was all right to have and how much could be dangerous.

When Marcellus came alone to see me, I knew I could count on being spoiled quite a bit. He'd bring me savory little snacks to eat, ones that would help me recover, he said, and I munched on herbed vegetable canapes and mushroom tarts and I don't know what else while I was ill. Aside from the snacks, he brought me tiny sweet treats and drinks made from a variety of fruits and even vegetables, and all of them tasted absolutely delicious. Marcellus always insisted that I eat what he brought, saying that I would get better faster if I ate them. I knew that humans regarded certain foods as having healing powers, but I hadn't read too much about it.

Once I'd eaten and drunk enough to satisfy him, Marcellus and I would chat. He answered my questions about how things were going with the manor and the young master and he reported on who had visited and what had happened. I was glad to hear that Dr. Lewis had written, saying that he would be returning to his premises in a few days. He'd answered every question Scotland Yard had asked and they were satisfied about his testimony about the case. Inspector Abberline was very pleased that Marcellus had contacted Dr. Lewis and that the two of them had arranged a plan to help the young master and I while we were in Sir Charles' clutches.

When we were done chatting Marcellus would either read aloud or do some coaxing to get me to go to sleep. Falling asleep on my own while I was ill was hard since I found it difficult to let my mind rest. When he read to me I would let the cadence of his words and the tone of his voice lull me to sleep, but when he coaxed me, that was even better. I didn't know why I enjoyed such things, but enjoy them I did and Marcellus never found it irksome to coax me. (I think that he rather enjoyed doing it, to be perfectly honest.) He would rub my back, smooth my hair, pat me on my shoulders, or just hold my hands in his until I felt calm enough to sleep. Sometimes he would even sit on my bed and hold me Humans thrive on touching others and having others touch them in return, and I understood the attraction now. As a demon, I couldn't have cared less about such things, but now, I lived for back rubs.

I'd been ill about six days when I woke up from a doze to see the young master sitting in the chair usually occupied by Marcellus.

"Bocchan," I said fondly, smiling. Why did I feel so happy whenever I saw him?

"Hello, Sebastian," he said. "I've come to see how you're feeling."

"I've been better," I said honestly. "However, I am feeling better than I did yesterday. How have you been?" I wanted to ask him why it had taken him six days to come and see me, but I figured that was a human feeling. It shouldn't matter to me that a master hadn't made time before to see me.

"I've been fine except when Marcellus and Agni have been driving me crazy," he said, sounding rather put-out. "The two of them together are a terror every day, I tell you."

This I could not believe. "How so, young master?"

"Since Agni's your friend, he feels it's his solemn duty to make sure that he takes care of me to the best of his ability, which is considerable due to that right hand of his. He's also very strict about what he feels is good for me and what isn't and what he thinks I should or should not be doing. It's very annoying."

"Really?" I said, feeling rather interested.

"Yes," he sighed. "The only person who's stricter than you and Agni combined is Marcellus. The two of them are a constant headache."

"They only have your welfare in mind, young master," I said lightly. Oh, this was very amusing.

"They should keep my welfare in mind by getting off my back!" he muttered. "All the time it's 'Lord Ciel this' and 'Young master that.' 'No, Lord Ciel, it is time for your lessons.' 'Young master, you should be reviewing Funtom's financial statements now.' 'You must finish all of your supper, Lord Ciel. What would Sebastian say?'"

I knew what I would say, but I had a strong feeling that if I said it where the young master could hear me, he would become upset. No, that was wrong. He would pass 'upset' and go straight to 'murderous.' The fact that I would be thanking my friends for doing such a good job on my behalf wouldn't mollify him. He'd want to kill me no matter the circumstances.

"At least you would let me have some fun once in a while," he complained. "And you'd give me sweets if I wanted them."

Uh-oh. Here were the real sticking points. I'd always known that children, no matter how traumatic their pasts, needed to unwind from time to time and a little occasional indulgence in sweets would be a good thing for them, as long as it didn't spoil their appetites for dinner. Such facts were true about my master. During our few years together I'd either amused him myself or I'd found ways he could amuse himself, and of course, I let him have treats at tea time and desserts and sweet things he liked after supper. I kept him at a good balance between work and play and between healthful food and treats, but it looked like Agni and Marcellus were being a bit overzealous in their care of him. They wanted to do a good job but they were trying so hard that they were beginning to louse things up. I'd have to do what I could to steer them back on the right track. I couldn't believe that Marcellus and Agni hadn't realized this earlier.

A sudden squeal brought us both out of our thoughts. "I'll bring you something sweet if you're hungry, and I'll play if you want to have some fun!"

I didn't have to guess whose voice that was I heard in the hallway. Grell had come for that promised visit I'd been dreading. I was bed-ridden, and a lovesick shinigami was in the house.

Why did I feel a sudden foreboding of doom?


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sebastian's POV:

I stared at Marcellus in abject horror and fought to pull away. "No."

"Yes, Sebastian," he said.

"No!"

"Yes."

"I don't want to!"

"That's not an issue here," he said calmly. "It needs to be done."

"It does not!" Roughly, I pulled away from him and backed up a few feet. He and I were in the servants' washroom and we were fighting about something that I felt would be an utter breach of my privacy.

"You've been ill for days, Sebastian," he said patiently. "A human who's been ill for days needs…"

Cursing my shaking legs, I sat down on a stool and interrupted him. "I don't care!"

"A bath," he finished. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"I don't want a bath!"

He glared at me. "Sebastian, if I have to toss you into that tub pajamas and all, I will."

A muffled squeal outside the door drew our attention. Wonderful. I drew breath in order to shout at him, but Marcellus beat me to it. He opened the bathroom door and Grell toppled in, red-faced.

"Hello, Mr. Sutcliff," he said pleasantly. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Ahhh," Grell sighed from the floor. "Immensely."

"I'll take a bath if you let me drown him," I suggested.

"How rude, Sebastian," Marcellus said pleasantly. "However, I've got a bargain for you. You can let me help you wash, or you can have Grell help you. Your choice."

Ohhh, that bastard! "You wouldn't!"

"I would!" Grell shouted gleefully. "Oh, I would, I would, I would! I'll scrub your back and wash your hair and…"

"I hate you, Marcellus," I said flatly.

"…and I have the cutest little ducky we can float in the water!" Grell gasped. "Wouldn't you like to float a ducky in the water, Sebastian?"

"Your choice, Sebastian," Marcellus said smugly.

"And I have the _softest_ towels!" Grell squealed. "You'll absolutely _loooooove_ them! They're real silk!"

"Out, Grell!" I shouted, cutting off his litany of bath items. "Marcellus is going to help me!"

"Oh, boo," Grell said. "Don't you want me to help you?"

"_No_," I snapped. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, you're no fun, Sebas-chan!" he wailed. "You won't let your devoted nurse help you in your hour of need!"

"You're _not_ my devoted nurse," I growled. "Out!"

He left, pouting and muttering about frigid males. I didn't really care what he said as long as he left.

"Wise choice," Marcellus said brightly, turning on the tap after putting the plug in the tub drain.

The Phantomhive manor was unusual in the luxury which its servants enjoyed. While most houses had water closets or reasonable equivalents for their servants in the servants' quarters, most houses did not have a fully functioning washroom. Most servants were expected to make do with the basins and pitchers in their rooms, which they were responsible for filling and washing and draining. The manor had a full washroom with two tubs, one hip bath, a showerbath, and several wash basins, all with taps with hot and cold running water. Servants did not have to carry cans of hot water up and down steps, nor did they have to carry the wash water away or drain it somehow. The washroom had been my idea since servants' work was dirty work, and it would reflect poorly on the estate if the servants were less than pristine. I had, from time to time, enjoyed a bath, but right now all I wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep.

"I don't want a bath," I complained, still sitting on my stool. "I just want to go back to bed."

"You'll feel better once you're clean," Marcellus said firmly.

"I don't see why you have to help me."

"It's because you can barely walk or stand on your own," he retorted. "What if you fell and hit your head?"

"I wouldn't do that."

"You'll let me help you, Sebastian," Marcellus said firmly. "Do you understand?"

I didn't say anything as he shut off the water and added a little cold to cool it to the right temperature. I hated the fact that I had to rely on someone else for such basic things.

"Sebastian?" he said, turning to look at me.

"I hate this," I muttered.

Marcellus nodded. "I see. That's what's been bothering you, hasn't it?"

I nodded. I could remember when I could fulfill all of my duties as a butler and as my master's protector and still have the time and energy to indulge myself with a bath on my own. Now, I couldn't do any of that and I couldn't take a bath on my own.

"It won't last forever," Marcellus said. "I've had the young master send for Dr. Lewis to look you over this afternoon. You've not gotten worse aside from that cough, but you haven't gotten better, either."

"Hmm." It was true. Last night I'd been coughing so much that Marcellus had insisted on my taking a very strong cough mixture he'd made. While it stopped the cough, it had also made me slightly tipsy with the amount of alcohol in it.

"Time to wash," Marcellus said, helping me to my feet. "If you're dizzy, lean against me, all right?"

There were times when I wondered just what Marcellus had spent his life doing. Taking care of an ill human seemed to be something he was comfortable with doing. He made medicines for me, brought me little dishes designed to coax a reluctant diner into eating, and did everything he could to make sure I was comfortable. How did he know to do all of this?

"There we are," Marcellus said, unfastening my nightclothes and draping them over the stool. "Into the tub, now."

I gave up and let him help me into the tub. The water was hot and helped me relax for the first time that morning and it wasn't long before Marcellus picked up a wash flannel and the soap and started to help me wash.

"Where did you learn to do all of this?" I asked after a minute or two, my curiosity getting the better of me. "You seem to know all there is about taking care of an ill human."

"One of my former masters was an invalid," Marcellus said. "He offered his soul to me in exchange for my protecting his family after he died, but I took care of them even though I didn't take his soul."

If I hadn't been sitting down, I would have fallen over. "Why not?"

"He was quite unusual," Marcellus said, rubbing the flannel over my shoulders. "His will to live was like a fire within him, and I think he burned himself up from inside. The only thing that matched it was the way he loved so deeply. I stayed with him and cared for him and his family, and it wasn't long before he came to care for me as deeply as he cared for them. He couldn't help it since humans bond with the people around them."

"You sound as if you enjoyed having a human fawn over you."

He fixed me with a steely glance. "He never fawned, Sebastian. Not once. However, he would look me in the eyes. That alone told me all that I needed to know. When he died, I did not swallow his soul but I allowed him to go to Heaven with my blessing. Such a soul…it deserved to shine in Heaven. It did not deserve to be consumed by me. I stayed with the family, protecting it until its last descendant died, and only then I considered my contract over."

I reflected on this. That a demon would serve for no reward… "What are you, Marcellus? Are you really a demon, or are you something else?"

"I am a demon," he said. "Nothing more, nothing less. However, as I'm sure you know, Sebastian, there is beauty in the world. There is beauty, and then there is the unexpected beauty that strikes you to the heart and stirs your emotions the way nothing else can. My most unusual master was an example of that type of beauty, and I was not willing to end it just to have a meal."

I thought about this. He was right about beauty and the rest of it, but no matter how a master piqued me or intrigued me, I'd never avoided the chance to have a meal. A demon had to eat, didn't he?

"I think it's something you'll understand once you've lived a little longer," Marcellus said, scrubbing the back of my neck. "Lean back, now, and let me get your chest."

I did as he asked and closed my eyes. I didn't want to admit it, but this was somewhat relaxing…

_Squeak._

All relaxation fled and my eyes popped open. What was that?

_Squeeeeak._

In a flash Marcellus pulled aside the one curtain in the room to reveal Grell. He had red silk towels over his arm and a ducky in one hand and a very, very red face. He was squeezing the life out of that poor duck and staring in my direction with the most puppy-love-ish look I'd ever seen.

How long had he been there and more importantly, what had he _seen_?

"Hello, Grell," Marcellus said pleasantly. "What are you doing here?"

What was he doing asking such a question? That was obvious! "Marcellus!" I gasped, hoping that the tub had me tolerably hidden from view. "Get him out of here!"

"I…I…I…" Grell stammered. "I brought the towels and ducky…"

"Oh, thank you," Marcellus said, taking the items he held out. "Would you like to help me wash his hair, Grell?"

I wanted to die as soon as I heard what he said and I started spluttering, but suddenly Grell squeaked and fell over, out cold.

"I thought that would do it," Marcellus said. "Now he'll sleep for a few hours and he'll be out of our hair."

"What?" I said, surprised.

Marcellus grinned. "What, you really wanted his help? Should I wake him up?"

"No!" I said quickly, promising myself that I would make him pay for this somehow. "Get him out of here before he wakes up!"

Marcellus hung up the towels and placed the duck in the bath with me. "So you won't get lonely while I'm taking care of Mr. Sutcliff," he said amiably, tossing the shinigami over his shoulder. "Stay in that tub, little one."

I didn't know how and I didn't know when, but Marcellus was going to pay. If I'd been my master's age, I would have been incorrigible and impossible and made his life a living hell over doing what he wanted, but I still had my dignity, tattered though it was.

Marcellus returned after a few minutes and helped me finish washing. I'd tried to do what I could, but any action on my part tired me to the point that I had no energy at all.

"Is it normal for a human to feel so tired when he's ill?" I asked after Marcellus poured water over my hair to rinse it.

"With some illnesses, it is," he said. "Sometimes fighting certain illnesses takes up all the body's energy."

I shifted in the water and the duck bobbed up and down. I glared at it: an inanimate object seemed to have more energy than I did.

"All finished," Marcellus said brightly, pulling out the drain stopper. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

I scowled. "No, it wasn't _bad_, it was an _ordeal_," I said flatly. I felt the same way I was sure the young master felt when he'd been up too late and hadn't had any sweets for a while. What was the word? Oh, yes. Cranky. In this situation, it seemed entirely apt.

"Oh, stop scowling," Marcellus admonished, helping me leave the tub before wrapping me up in a towel. I was very glad to see that it was a normal towel and not one of Grell's. Once I was dry Marcellus helped me dress in fresh nightclothes, he wrapped a robe around me, and led me back to my room. I sank thankfully into my bed and was pleasantly surprised when I realized that the sheets and blankets had been changed to fresh ones scented with lavender. I was perfectly happy to bury my nose in the pillowcase and enjoy the scent.

"Do you feel better now that you're in bed?" Marcellus asked, pouring me a glass of water.

"Much," I said, my voice muffled since I was still enjoying the scent of the lavender. I didn't know how long it was before I fell asleep but when I woke up Dr. Lewis was there with a stethoscope pressed against my chest. "Why are those things always so cold?" I complained, shifting away from it.

"Ah, you're awake," Dr. Lewis said brightly. "How do you feel, Mr. Michaelis?"

"Mmmph," I said, fighting to rally my wits. "Sleepy. Terrible. Pick a negative adjective."

Remarking that he was glad my illness hadn't dulled my sense of humor, Dr. Lewis fought a smile and asked Marcellus for my symptoms. After hearing those and performing a short exam he diagnosed me with grippe. "The danger now is pneumonia," Dr. Lewis said. "You said he's not gotten better and he's started coughing?"

"That's correct."

Dr. Lewis nodded. "Since the cause of grippe is usually a virus there's not much we can do beyond trying to wait it out and relieve the symptoms," he said. "If his fever comes back and spikes, send for me immediately, but otherwise, he'll mend in a few days. He's already been ill a week or so, hasn't he?"

"A week today," Marcellus said.

"Then it won't be too much longer," Dr. Lewis said confidently. "Keep him in bed as much as possible for the next few days and light duties only for a week or so. I'll stop by in a few days and we'll see if he's ready to go back to his full duties or if he needs more rest." He stopped and tapped my shoulder. "Did you hear that, Sebastian?"

"Hmmm," I said sleepily. "I heard. I'll have you know that I am one hell of a butler."

"A butler who's had the grippe," Dr. Lewis said lightly. "Feel better, now. Mr. Marcellus, I'll leave his medicines and instructions with you."

Once again, I was the victim of devoted nurses. Now that it was known for sure I had the grippe the young master was not able to visit me. If he caught grippe then his asthma could cause complications and that would be nothing short of a disaster. Still, he sent his good wishes to me daily. Agni, Marcellus, and Grell all looked after me and even the other servants pitched in when needed to make sure I was comfortable and had everything I needed. I didn't want to admit it to anyone, but I was enjoying the fussing and attention. Being ill wasn't so terrible as long as you weren't _too_ ill and there were people there to distract you from how you were feeling.

It took me a bit longer to recover than Dr. Lewis said. It took me two weeks in order to gain enough strength in order to take up light duties, but Dr. Lewis wasn't too concerned. "You and the earl have been through a difficult and troubling experience, and it's been noted that great amounts of stress and illness tend to compound each other. I think your body's taking a little extra time to rest up after all that stress."

"After all this rest, I wonder if I'll ever be able to sleep again," I joked.

Dr. Lewis chuckled. "You will, trust me. A nap this afternoon will actually do you good. Rest while you can, Mr. Michaelis. Remember, you have an active little master to watch after."

"How is the young master?" I asked, sitting up. It felt like ages since I'd last seen him...

"I think he feels safe again," Dr. Lewis told me. "Also, I think that he's getting out all the emotion he bottled up during his captivity. When I drove up to the house today he was outside with Prince Soma. I don't know what kind of ball game they were playing but Prince Soma looked as if he were on his last legs while the earl was still going strong."

I chuckled. I knew what this was, and I found it just as amusing now as I did when I was a demon. "I've always thought of it as 'frenzy,'" I explained. "You're right about it being a way for the young master to deal with suppressed emotions. Every now and then he'll want to run around outside like a dervish and he's always the better for it once he runs out of steam. Running himself ragged is a way for him to work out all of his worries and fretting."

"Just so long as he doesn't run himself too ragged," Dr. Lewis said. It was clear that the young master's abundance of energy had surprised him.

"I usually know when to redirect his attention so he'll stop, and I'll let Marcellus know when he should help the young master calm down," I offered.

"Prince Soma will thank him for it," Dr. Lewis said. "Are they actually playing a game?"

"I think the young master just picks up a ball and runs," I said. "If people saw him they wouldn't think twice about a boy running with a ball. After all, he has his dignity to maintain."

A whoop outside drew Dr. Lewis to the window and I knew the view from my window looked down on the lawn. "What's going on?" I asked. My master rarely made such a noise.

"The young earl has the ball and he's running like mad. Prince Soma's right behind him. It looks like they're playing some form of rugby." He watched a moment longer. "No, I don't think they are. I think they're just running. Now Prince Soma has the ball and the earl is chasing him. Now the earl has the ball and is running...and he's been tackled by Prince Soma. They're joined on the field by Agni and I think I'd better go downstairs and make sure my services aren't needed."

Since I could hear my master's furious shouting I agreed wholeheartedly. Dr. Lewis left and returned about an hour later chuckling under his breath.

"Is the young master all right?"

"A few scrapes and bruises, but that's all," Dr. Lewis said. "Prince Soma...he has a black eye. The earl says it happened when they went head over heels and that it was an accident, but I'm skeptical."

I stared at him and broke down laughing. My master rarely showed his child-like side and I had to admit that such an action on his part was childish. The fact that he felt safe enough to indulge that side of himself was a very, very good sign, indeed.

A week of light duties and I was ready to go back to a more normal schedule. Marcellus and Agni both insisted that I take regular breaks during the day, but I was still able to be a creditable Phantomhive butler. Tanaka, as house steward, took over a few tasks that I'd previously seen to and Marcellus and Agni were still lending all their effort to making the house work. One afternoon I was deep in tea preparations when the bell to the study gave a tremendous ring that had me pelting upstairs. Why would the young master ring like that?

Marcellus met me in the hall with the young master and Prince Soma. "Sebastian, we're under attack. Gunmen and snipers. You, the young master, and Prince Soma are to go upstairs to the room we prepared, all right?"

Since I was no longer a demon and since Marcellus tended to worry too much, a siege room had been prepared. My white cat, Duchess, had taken a liking to the room and spent a great deal of time there, possibly due to the quiet. The walls had been lined with metal and living arrangements had been made so that any occupants could withstand a lengthy attack until the defenders had dealt with any aggressors. Not only did we have Finny, Bard, and Mey-Rin defending the manor, we had Marcellus, Grell, Agni, and the gray ones who could come at Marcellus' call. As long as there weren't too many attackers, it shouldn't take long to deal with them.

We were in the siege room for about half an hour, listening to gunshots. A range and a basic set of cooking tools had been placed in this room, so I was busy getting tea for the young master and Prince Soma when I heard footsteps outside our door.

No. Impossible. How could someone have gotten past all our defenses and upstairs? I looked around the room for some means to defend ourselves, but neither Marcellus nor Agni had thought to put a gun or other weapon in this room. A kick to the door startled all of us and I jumped in front of the young master and Soma, certain that I would have to give up my life to protect them. Another kick to the door and a gunman was standing in the open doorway, a rifle trained on us and...

_Clang! Bang! Whanng. Clang! THUD._

It was fully possible that he hadn't expected what I did and that fact alone saved our lives. As soon as the door was open I'd thrown myself at the gunman and began striking him with an iron frying pan. A few blows and he was on the floor unconscious.

"Wow," I heard the young master say behind me as I shook. "That was pretty brave, Sebastian."

"Thank you, young master," I said, standing over our attacker like an avenging angel. I still had the frying pan in my hands and if this man so much as _twitched_ I'd beat him with that pan until he was a pulp.

Five minutes later Marcellus was there, tidying the mess away and making sure the three of us were all right. "What happened?" he asked, taking in my ashen face and shaking frame.

"It was so incredible!" Soma enthused, giving me a hearty clap on the back. "Sebastian fought him off with a frying pan!"

Marcellus stared at me and the color actually drained from his face. "He did WHAT?" he thundered.

Grell appeared. "What's wrong?"

"It wasn't as if I had a choice, Marcellus!" I said quickly. "I couldn't just stand back and let him shoot us!"

"You could have been killed!" Marcellus shouted.

"We're fine!" I shouted back. "I acted fast enough and surprised him and since you and everyone else kept the rest of his friends away from us, I think we all did a fine job of protecting the manor!"

"Never do that again," Marcellus growled, grabbing hold of my shoulders. "Do you understand, Sebastian?"

"Oh, yes, I understand," I said snidely. "I'll just let all of us be _shot_ next time!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man," Marcellus snapped. "You pull an idiot stunt like this again and I'll turn you over my knee, understand?"

Grell didn't even have time to squeak. He keeled over, much like a tree that had just been cut. All four of us stared at him and a moment later Prince Soma and the young master fell over as well, laughing too hard to speak.

"He should see a doctor for these fainting fits of his," Marcellus said, staring at the prone form of the shinigami.

If anything, that made the young master and Prince Soma laugh even harder.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

It was so very, very good to be home again. For the first time in ages I was able to sleep well at night, my appetite returned and I was able to enjoy my meals again, and I wasn't afraid all the time. True, my demon butler was a human, but Marcellus had told me that Sebastian's true nature would come back with time. Until then, he could do his regular job of butler. I knew that he took pride in his work and that it would have been a serious blow to his sense of self if I'd told him that his services as butler were not required. After all, he had a human's sensibilities now to deal with, and that was burden enough for anyone.

The day of the attack left all of us feeling drained and tired. Marcellus insisted Sebastian go upstairs and lie down for a bit while he served me an evening tea. All of us were having tea that Marcellus swore would calm our nerves and enable us to sleep. As Marcellus poured tea and added sugar I thought about his reaction to Sebastian putting himself in danger the way he had.

"Marcellus, I remember asking you if you were Sebastian's father," I said, breaking the silence.

"I remember, young master."

"And you're not."

"No."

I sat there and thought about it for a moment. With a demon you always had to ask the right questions in order to get the information you wanted. "May I ask you some more questions?"

"Of course."

I thought some more. "Are you related to Sebastian at all?"

"Yes, young master."

I smiled. I'd asked the right question. "Are you his older brother?"

"No."

"An uncle?"

"No."

"Grandfather?"

"No, young master."

I stared at him. What else was there? "You're not his mother, are you?"

He laughed. "No, I'm male, young master. Keep going."

I thought furiously and then remembered that I was talking to a demon. A few centuries would be like years to them. "Are you his great-grandfather?"

He smiled. "Yes."

Finally! "Why hasn't Sebastian recognized you yet?"

"Because he's never seen me before," he told me, handing me my cup of tea. "I was involved in a contract when he was born and I couldn't get away. By the time the contract was over he was already grown and busily fulfilling a contract of his own. It wouldn't have been right for me to force myself into his life. When Sir Charles ordered me to bring you to him I was delighted to see Sebastian, of course, and grieved that I had to hurt him, but helping him recuperate afforded me the chance to get to know him."

"So that's why you've stuck around," I said before sipping my tea. "It's unusual for a demon to serve someone without a reward, but you are getting rewarded, aren't you?"

He nodded. "I'm getting to know my great-grandson," he said. "For me, that's reward enough." He stopped and put his arms around himself. "Young master, are you cold?"

"A bit," I admitted. "Would you put some more coal on the fire?"

Marcellus turned to do so, but crackling under his feet and a sharp drop in temperature stopped him. Frost had suddenly covered the carpet and was slowly creeping its way up the walls.

"Marcellus...?" I said, staring at the frost.

Marcellus turned from the fire and stared at me. "I think we're under attack again, young master."

"From what?" I shivered.

Marcellus scooped me from my chair and rushed out of the room and upstairs. "Sebastian!" he bellowed. "Sebastian, where are you?"

Sebastian's door opened and he stood there, blinking sleepily. "Marcellus? What's wrong?"

"An attack," he said, handing me over to Sebastian. "The two of you..."

A blast of ice out of nowhere threw Marcellus down the hall, actually knocking him out. A giggle drew our attention to the opposite end of the hall.

"Now that he's out of the way I can do what I was sent to do," we heard. Someone was in the shadows and the voice sounded female, but it didn't sound human.

"Who are you?" Sebastian demanded, tightening his arms around me and backing away from our attacker.

The person stepped forward to reveal a woman...actually, a girl in her late teens. She smiled sweetly and approached us. "You should know better than to ask me to reveal my true name," she said, wagging a finger at us. "Naughty boy!"

"Sebastian, what is she?" I asked, suddenly feeling very, very frightened.

"A fiend," Sebastian said, turning to run.

He slid and jerked to a halt, groaning and looking down at his feet. I looked and saw them encased in ice and stuck to the floor.

"It'll make my job that much harder if you try to run away," she said. "That isn't very fair, is it?"

"What were you sent here to do?" I demanded, glaring at her over Sebastian's shoulder as she approached.

She smiled and I felt the hallway get colder. "My master's orders, of course. I'm to take you both to him."

"Both?" Sebastian gasped, shivering.

"Yes, both," she said, reaching out to pat Sebastian's shoulder. "Revenge on that Marcellus, you see. He betrayed his former master."

"But...!" I said, fighting to get out of Sebastian's arms. "You mean Sir Charles?"

She smiled again. "Off to dreamland, now," she said, pressing a hand against Sebastian's forehead and catching him before he could collapse. "You, too, little one. Nighty-night."

Darkness and ice descended and I knew nothing more.

A/N: Thanks for being so patient! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Sebastian's POV:

I knew that if Sir Charles had contracted with a fiend then the young master and I were in a great deal of trouble. Fiends…well, they had no sense of aesthetics. If they wished to do a thing, even if it didn't fit in with their current persona, then they would do it. Also, they reveled in the distress and unhappiness of others. Distressing humans suited them very well, but if they could torment a demon…they all wanted the chance to do that.

I had a strong feeling that I was in for a great deal of distress as I woke. I knew that this fiend wouldn't let such a chance pass her by. I lay very still, getting my bearings, and as I opened my eyes I saw that I was in my butler's room at Blackwell. It was just as I'd left it, save for the presence in the chair.

"Good morning," she said brightly, eyeing me. "Sleep well?"

"Quite," I said, sitting up.

She looked at me, studying my features. "You know, you're awfully cute as a human."

I blinked. Had I heard wrong? Surely I had. It was not possible that she had just given me something resembling a compliment.

"You're cute asleep, too," she continued. "Sometimes you smile."

All right, it was fully possible. Grell had said the same thing. "I've heard that before."

She smiled. "I thought so. Feeling all right?"

What was this? Where was the distress and torment? I wasn't looking forward to it, of course, but I would have liked to have gotten some of it over with! "I feel fine."

"Good," she said, getting to her feet. "Sir Charles has ordered that you take over a butler's duties since you're already a trained butler."

All right, I hadn't expected this. "He has?" I already knew he'd taken leave of his senses, but really, how deep could madness go?

"Yes," she confirmed. "You're to take care of the meals, the cleaning, and whatever else needs doing. He's trusting me to keep you controlled."

As a demon, I could have squashed her with just a few blows. As a human, I didn't stand a chance. She could squish me in seconds, so if I wanted to live, I would have to be careful not to provoke her, but I didn't know yet how to avoid that. My best chance was to wait and see, but I knew I had to ask questions as long as she was willing to answer them. "How will you control me?" I asked. "How do you know I won't try to escape as soon as your back is turned?"

"Oh, but I do know," she said pleasantly. "You won't be able to."

I felt as if a rock had settled in my stomach. "And why not?"

She smiled, and this time, there was no warmth in it. "I've placed a thrall on you," she said. "It took me some time, but I was able to put a mark around your neck that will allow me to control you whenever I invoke it."

I glanced at the mirror and sure enough, I could see a dark, scrolling line at the base of my neck. A demon's thrall of a human or demon was invisible, but one set by a fiend needed a visible symbol on its subject, something like the mark of a contract.

"If you disobey me, try to escape, or displease Sir Charles, then I will invoke the thrall," she said sweetly. "For a demon, it would probably not be too bad, but for a human it will be excruciating, depending on how badly I want you to obey me. I'll leave it up to you to decide whether to obey me or not."

I didn't have to think about that one. If I were crippled with pain then I would not be able to help the young master if he needed my aid. The choice was already clear.

"I'm glad you understand," she said, opening my wardrobe and taking out a uniform. "Now, wash up and get dressed and then come down to the kitchen. You have breakfast to make and you need to wait at table. Hurry up."

As soon as she was gone, I hurried. As soon as my room was in order I went to the kitchen and found the menu for the day on the kitchen table. Cursing the fact that Sir Charles had found a fiend to contract with, I set about making soft boiled eggs, sausage, pain perdu, and hot chocolate. Then, I went upstairs to the dining room, laid the cloth and set the table, set up the chafing dishes on the side board, fetched the serving dishes, and returned to the kitchen until I was rung for.

That turned out not to be necessary. The fiend was there, dishing up a plate of food. She smiled as she saw me. "Hello," she said. "Is everything ready upstairs?"

"Everything," I affirmed.

She nodded. "Good. I hope you'll continue to be so attentive to your duties."

"I didn't think I had a choice," I said flatly.

"You always have a choice," she said, motioning me to a chair. "It's just that you have to make the right ones. You're probably wondering what I expect of you." She placed the plate of food in front of me.

The thought had crossed my mind.

She handed me a napkin and a knife and fork. "You're human, so you need to eat," she said. "Eat while I talk."

She paused and I realized she was waiting for me to begin my meal, so I picked up the fork and started to eat.

"Sir Charles has entrusted me with the care of the young master and to a certain extent, he's entrusted me with your care as well. You're human now, after all, and a human requires a bit more care than a demon. You will eat when it's time for your meals, you will sleep at night, and you will allow me to pattern your days. You will do as I tell you. Do you understand?"

I swallowed my current mouthful of food. "Yes."

"You will address me as Lucy," she said. "That was the name given me by Sir Charles. The young master will be calling me Nursie since Sir Charles has asked me to act as his nurse. He's also asked that I make sure you remain in good health."

I hadn't doubted that in the slightest. Her gaze dropped down to my plate and I realized that I'd finished my meal without noticing. It could have been ashes for all I'd tasted of it.

"Very good," she said, turning away to the counter. "Keeping you in good health means medicines at the right time, too."

Foreboding suddenly choked me. "Medicines?" If she was going to give me some patent medicine filled with alcohol or opium...oh, the results would not be good. As a human I could become addicted to such substances easily.

"One spoonful," she said, filling a spoon from a brown glass bottle.

"What is that?" I asked, extremely nervous.

"Cod liver oil," she said sweetly. "The young master will taking it, too. Come on, now. Swallow this."

I knew I couldn't disobey, but in some corner of my mind I contemplated running for the hills. Cod liver oil had a nasty reputation, literally, and thousands of children loathed its very existence due to its taste, but parents swore by it as a health tonic. Children were almost always honest in their reactions to such things. I knew I could trust their assessment of its taste and I wasn't looking forward to this.

"Don't make me invoke thrall," Lucy said as the temperature dropped.

I took the spoon from her and swallowed its contents, wincing as the taste hit me. Ohhh, it was truly awful! How could parents insist on inflicting children with this for the sake of their health? Surely there were better alternatives than making them swallow something that tasted like a rancid fish!

"Well done," Lucy said, smiling as she corked the bottle. "You'll be having a spoonful of that a day to keep your health strong."

I gagged at the thought. I knew, I just _knew_, that I couldn't do this more than once.

She stared at me. "Is the taste too strong?"

"That is the foulest thing I've ever swallowed," I said, struggling to regain my dignity.

She smiled. "I can fix that."

She moved so quickly that I didn't see what she did, but a moment later something was melting in my mouth and before I could stop myself, I'd swallowed. Sweetness flooded my mouth and the flavor of chocolate and caramel made me smile. I was so surprised that I couldn't speak for a bit. "You just gave me a chocolate?"

"Is the bad taste gone?" she asked. Her tone was so saccharine that I wanted to back away. She was at her scariest when she was being her sweetest.

"Yes, completely gone," I said quickly. "Thank you."

She gave me another smile. "Good. If Master Ciel takes his medicine without a fuss I'll do the same for him. I know he likes chocolate."

I fought down a smile at the thought that the young master might take the cod liver oil in order to get the chocolate.

She stopped and looked down at herself. "Do you think I make a good nurse?"

I looked her up and down. "Well, you certainly look the part, and so far you've done all the things a nurse is supposed to do." It wouldn't kill me to be honest.

My compliment made her grin. "I'm going to be the best nurse I can be," she said brightly. "I've never been a nurserymaid before and it's all been so much fun!"

A sudden suspicion occurred to me. "Lucy, may I ask how old you are?"

She stopped and thought. "I'll be a century in a few years." Then she giggled. "Naughty boy, don't you know that it's impolite to ask a woman her age?"

Her answer confirmed my suspicion and suddenly her behavior made sense. She was old enough to make a contract with someone, but she still had a few years to grow into the person she would become. That was why she still seemed so child-like. If I wanted to draw comparisons, I would have to put her true age at just a few years older than the young master, perhaps a slightly immature and playful sixteen or seventeen. Interesting. She was old enough to still want an adult's approval, too. I'd already seen that when she'd asked my opinion.

"I shall remember that," I said politely.

"Good. Now, you'd best go upstairs and wait for Sir Charles. I'll bring Master Ciel down."

I was more than glad to go back up to the dining room and wait. I needed a few minutes in which to collect my thoughts and waiting for Sir Charles and the young master was the perfect opportunity to do so.

Sir Charles arrived first. When he saw me he smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. "Hello, Sebastian," he said. "How are you?"

"I am fine, sir." I had to be polite. I would be polite. Even if it killed me, I would be polite.

He smirked. "Good to know."

It just might kill me.

What he did next surprised me. He crossed the room, loosened my tie, and opened the collar of my shirt. His smirk grew even more satisfied than it had been before.

"It's good she put a collar on you like I ordered," he said, refastening my collar and straightening my tie. "Now we won't have any trouble with you, and Marcellus will get to sweat while you're in my hands."

It took all of my willpower not to lock my hands around his throat. If I killed Sir Charles, Lucy might just let us go, or we might be entirely at her nonexistent mercy. It was always hard to tell with fiends, especially with ones that were as changeable as Lucy. I had a strong feeling that the latter would be more likely and I wasn't willing to risk it.

Sir Charles took his seat and a minute later I heard footsteps approaching. Lucy and the young master entered. Sir Charles shot out of his seat and threw himself at my young master, wrapping him in his arms and hugging him tight.

"I can't breathe!" the young master protested. "Not so hard!"

Sir Charles released him but placed his hands on his shoulders instead, making sure he couldn't step away. "I'm so glad you're all right, Ciel."

My master looked as if he were thinking very hard about something. "Hello, Papa."

It was a miracle that I didn't faint.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

"Master Ciel, it is time to wake up."

My eyes snapped open. I didn't recognize that voice…why was a woman in my room?

"Master Ciel? Wake up, now."

I sat up just as I heard someone stirring the fire. The woman there turned and smiled at me. "Good morning, Master Ciel. Did you sleep well?"

Abruptly I remembered the events of the night before. "You're that fiend," I said, clutching the blankets.

She smiled again. "Yes, but you can't call me 'fiend,' little one. Call me 'Nursie.'"

I stared at her. "Nursie?"

"That's right," she said, going to the curtains and opening them.

In the brighter light I could see how she was dressed and I had to admit that she looked like the epitome of a nurserymaid, from her dress and apron to her mob cap. I looked around the room and realized that I was at Blackwell. It was the same bedroom I'd had before and nothing had changed. I looked back at the fiend while she took out a set of clothing from the wardrobe and approached my bed.

"I can do that," I said quickly, getting out of bed.

"You may be able to, but you will not until they've been aired," she told me. "Now, go wash up. There's hot water in the hip bath. I'll be there in a few minutes to help you."

I felt myself blush. "I don't need help! I can take a bath on my own!" There was no way on this earth that I was going to let a strange female help me bathe, human or otherwise. Even when I'd been in the hospital I'd insisted on washing myself without the help of any of the nurses.

"Best hurry," she said, setting my clothes aside and giving me a little nudge toward the bathroom door. "The water will get cold."

Hurry? I fully intended to hurry! In less than five minutes I'd undressed, scrambled into the tub, scrubbed myself top to toe, dried, and wrapped myself up in the waiting dressing gown. I was just tying the belt when she arrived. "All finished!" I said quickly, hoping she wouldn't insist that I get back in the tub so she could be sure I'd washed.

She looked me up and down and nodded. "All right, then, Master Ciel. Come along and let's get you dressed." She led me back into the bedroom and I saw that she'd hung my clothes in front of the fire on a drying rack. I knew that nurserymaids always aired their charges' clothing in order to ward off dampness and keep them from falling ill, but she was taking it just a little too far. I wasn't a frail little child but a teenager. Didn't she realize that?

Apparently not. She insisted on dressing me and when I fought to get away from her, protesting that I was a young man and in no need of her help, she grabbed hold of me and forced me into my clothes.

"You may be a young man, Master Ciel, but right now you're behaving like the smallest child," she said tartly, ignoring my complaints as she tied my tie and put my shoes on my feet. "If you can't behave I'll have to speak to Sir Charles about you."

That shut me up instantly. I didn't know just what I'd be faced with when I finally saw him and it was better to be cautious.

"Go brush your teeth and comb your hair while I make your bed, Master Ciel," she said, nudging me back toward the washroom. "Hurry up, now."

I did as she ordered and when I went back to the bedroom she was waiting with my eyepatch.

"Where's Sebastian?" I asked while she helped me put it on. I'd remembered that she'd said Sir Charles had sent her after us both.

"He's downstairs waiting to serve breakfast," she told me, smoothing my hair. "There. You look quite presentable."

I didn't say anything. What could I say? I was in an impossible situation once again and for the moment everything felt so unreal that my mind failed to work. There was nothing I could do to change it…yet. I might be a prisoner of a deranged man and a fiendish nursemaid, but that would not be the state of things forever. I refused to let it be.

She turned away from me and picked up a bottle from the nightstand. She opened it and poured some of its contents into a spoon and held it out to me. "Here you are, youngster."

I stared at the pale yellow liquid and wanted to back away. "What is that?"

"Cod liver oil," she said pleasantly.

I did back away. The stuff was often touted as an effective all-around tonic, but I and thousands of children loathed its very existence due to its taste. "No. I'm not taking that." I'd had to swallow it a few times during my childhood when I'd been ill and each time the stuff had been awful.

"You'll take this one spoonful now, or you'll get no breakfast and two spoonfuls instead," she said sweetly. "Which will it be?"

By this point I'd edged my way to the door and tried the knob. Almost instantly I snatched my hand away…the knob was covered in ice!

She smiled. "I'm waiting, young master."

I wanted to throttle her. Instead I walked over to her and took what was in the spoon. I shuddered as the oil oozed its way down my throat and I nearly gagged at the fishy taste. Oh, it was as awful as I remembered. Not once in all his time with me had Sebastian forced me to take a medicine and silently I thanked him for that. I'd have to show him my appreciation somehow…perhaps another cat? Compared to this woman, Sebastian was very kind and suddenly it didn't seem so important to keep him from those sneeze-inducing fuzzballs as much.

"Very good," she said, putting the bottle and spoon aside. "Time for breakfast, young master."

"Will Sir Charles be there?" I asked as the door swung open to let us into the hall.

She nodded. "He's waiting."

I followed her downstairs, wondering how I should handle meeting Sir Charles. Should I be defiant to let him know that I wouldn't allow him to keep me prisoner? Should I stay quiet and wait to see what happened? Should I try to fool him somehow and lull him into a false sense of security and then make my escape once his vigilance had eased? It was so frustrating that I wouldn't be able to plan anything before I saw him!

We reached the dining room and the first thing I saw was a whirlwind in a dark coat coming at me. A moment later I was being crushed. I should have known that Sir Charles would give me either an exuberant greeting or a stony one. Was it good or bad that he'd chosen to be exuberant?

"I can't breathe!" I complained. "Not so hard!" Maybe it was bad. If my ribs gave way, it would definitely be bad.

Sir Charles eased up and placed his hands on my shoulders. "I'm so glad you're all right, Ciel."

His reaction and how he spoke to me decided my course of action. I would play along...for now. "Hello, Papa," I said quietly. I fully intended to be a child who'd been through a distressing experience. Appearing that way would awaken all of his paternal instincts and he would be more inclined to indulge me. More importantly, he would be less inclined to be suspicious of me.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, taking my hand and leading me to the table. "Sebastian's produced a small feast."

Now I saw Sebastian. He was standing by the sideboard, ready to serve, as always. I was seated at Sir Charles' right and the nurse-fiend had disappeared, thank goodness.

"You may serve, Sebastian," Sir Charles said. "However, you're not to speak unless I speak to you. Do you understand?"

Sebastian gave a slight bow. "Yes, sir."

He was quiet after that, serving breakfast as if he had no voice. He served like the perfect butler he was, but I could tell that he was on edge. Since he'd become human I'd gotten better at reading his emotions. Right now he was tense and unhappy and I knew that he really, truly wished to speak to me. He might wish to reassure me or he might have some piece of information that might help the two of us out of this mess, but at the moment, he couldn't speak.

He wasn't the only one who was frustrated at not being able to speak. I knew Sir Charles might become dangerous if I did anything to provoke him, and actually seeking to speak to Sebastian might trigger a fit of madness. I would have to deal with this situation as cautiously as I could in order to prevent any danger from Sir Charles.

Breakfast passed without incident. I ate what was put in front of me without tasting any of it and once we were finished eating the nurserymaid was there, ready for duty. I didn't hear what orders she gave Sebastian, but we left him behind and Sir Charles and I went outside into the garden for a morning walk. The nurse followed us and I had an uneasy feeling that she was watching every move I made.

"I have a surprise for you, Ciel," Sir Charles said as we approached the back garden.

I looked up at him and pretended an enthusiasm I didn't feel. "What is it?"

"It's just around the corner, there," Sir Charles said, leading the way.

I pretended to hurry and pretended to be eager for the surprise. I was glad I was such a good actor; the surprise wasn't much to write home about. Sir Charles had put up a swing for me. Of course, I feigned delight and joy and ran for the swing, demanding that "Papa" push me. I was able to pass almost an hour swinging and I realized that this swing might be a blessing in disguise. If I wanted to get outside and work off some nervous energy, then I could always tell Sir Charles that I wanted to swing. If it wasn't a convenient time for him to go with me, then all the better. I could put up with the nurse-fiend if I had to.

"I thought you would like this," Sir Charles said, giving me another push. "Lucy suggested I put it up for you."

"Who's Lucy?"

A giggle told me who that was. The fiend.

"Your nurse," Sir Charles said, still pushing me.

"Papa, I'm too old for a nurse!" I complained. At thirteen years old, I was much too old for a nurse.

"Nonsense," Sir Charles said stoutly. "Lucy will help me take wonderful care of you."

I sensed that I couldn't change his mind on this. I was going to have a nurse whether I wanted one or not. "I'm not a baby," I muttered.

"I never said you were, Ciel," Sir Charles said, stopping the swing. "However, Lucy will remain as your nurse because I wish her to be so. I think that if you take some time to get to know her you'll come to like her."

I didn't have to say that I seriously doubted that. Sir Charles missed my look of extreme doubt, but I knew the fiend saw it. She was smiling and for some reason, that frightened me.

A/N: In Victorian Britain, they called nannies "nurse."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Sebastian's POV:

The insanity continued and there seemed no end in sight. Everything settled into a routine quickly and I clung to that routine as a way to keep myself calm. I now perceived things and understood and responded to them as a human and the only way I could keep myself from going stark raving mad was by following the routine. Indeed, it was the only thing I could do.

Of course, going mad might still be an option...

My days started early at a quarter to six. I rose from my bed, had a quick cold wash to wake myself up, dressed, set my room in order, and went downstairs. There I was to begin making breakfast and put things in order for the day. As soon as I finished laying the table and preparing the sideboard I returned to the kitchen for my own breakfast and to take the cod liver oil that Lucy always insisted I have. She was always there to make sure I took it, too. (That was profoundly annoying.) After that, I would go back upstairs to serve at table, clear everything away, and attend to the washing up and any preparations I had to make for lunch.

My work was only just beginning then, it was only nine o'clock by that point. For the next two hours I went about the house, tidying and putting each room in order for the day. By eleven o'clock it was time for me to return to the kitchen and prepare for lunch at one o'clock (My own lunch came at twelve o'clock and Lucy was usually there to make sure that I ate). Once again I had to lay the table and prepare the sideboard and serve at table and clear away and do the washing up. During the afternoon I continued with cleaning the rooms I hadn't gotten to in the morning and by three o'clock I had to prepare tea and have it ready by four. Lucy served at that meal so I had that much more time to attend to my duties, which by that point consisted entirely of dinner preparations. By seven o'clock dinner was prepared and yes, I had to set the table, prepare the sideboard, serve at table, clear away, and do the washing up. Once that was done I had to set things in order for the morning and only then could I go upstairs to bed. By that point it was about ten or eleven o'clock and I was more than ready.

My strongest inclination was to drop into bed fully dressed and sleep like the dead until I had to get up in the morning, but Lucy thwarted that plan the one time I tried it. She insisted I have a full bath and change into nightclothes and she pushed me all the way to the washroom to make sure I complied.

"You're as stubborn as Master Ciel," she said, yanking my coat from my shoulders. "You're having a bath whether you want one or not, Sebastian!"

"I don't need your help!" I said rather desperately. Indeed, I was close to panic. "A gentleman does not allow a young lady to be present while he bathes! He must consider her sensibilities!"

She gave me a long, thoughtful look. "All right, then. I'll give you half an hour."

I thanked my quick thinking and each of my lucky stars by name when she left. I washed and changed into fresh nightclothes before pulling on a robe…I was not about to let her see me _en_ _dishabille_. There were limits, after all!

Every night after my bath Lucy saw me to bed, usually with a hot drink that would help me sleep. I rarely needed such a thing since I was always more than ready to fall asleep on my own, but it was nice to have all the same. Marcellus had often brought me warm milk flavored with vanilla and nutmeg or chamomile tea sweetened with honey. Having Lucy do the same thing reminded me of Marcellus and the easy relationship we'd come to have and I missed that. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I did miss it a great deal.

The only things that distinguished days from one another were the chores I had to perform. On Mondays I had to see to the week's laundry, soaking the clothes in a wash boiler filled with hot water and lye soap and borax (to soften the water) and using a wooden dolly to agitate the clothes. I dearly missed the laundry facilities at the Phantomhive manor. We had a machine to do the wash and aside from a few hiccups every now and then it worked with no problem. Once the clothes were clean I had to soak them in fresh water to rinse them, run them through a wringer and hang them outside to dry. On overcast days I had to use a drying rack in the kitchen and hoist the clothes almost to the ceiling to take advantage of the warmer air.

Tuesday was ironing day. I had to take all of the fresh clothes that needed ironing and press them using two irons. Once one became cool I would place it on the iron stand at the fire and use the other until it too cooled. By that point the first iron was hot and ready to be used. To keep the irons from scorching any of the fabric I sprinkled water on the garment I was ironing and used a press cloth for more delicate fabrics.

On Wednesday I had to attend to any mending and sewing, but fortunately, there wasn't much of that. The only garments I really had to work on were Sir Charles' since the young master was more careful of his clothing. Sir Charles was so careless that it began to resemble cruelty to his garments. (I also had a nasty suspicion that he was doing such things on purpose in order to give me more work.)

Thursday was market day. I wasn't allowed to leave the grounds, but I was able to send to the shops in the village and make arrangements for groceries and supplies. Seeing the faces of the tradesmen…seeing new faces at all!...was a treat and I was always more than happy to treat them to a hot cup of tea and something savory for their trouble in making deliveries. If I was careful, I was even able to have a short chat with them before I had to go and see to the clerical tasks waiting for me in my office. I had to go over the household accounts until they came out even, accounting for every expenditure and each penny in the household funds.

On Friday I had to do the deep cleaning chores that I wasn't able to get to in my daily cleaning. More than once I ended up covered in dust or soot by midday and a hasty bath was the only way to rectify the problem. Once, though, I only had time to change my clothes before lunch and wash my face and hands. Thank goodness my gloves hid the fingernails I hadn't been able to use a nail brush on and my hair was already black. It hid the soot very well.

Saturday was baking day, when I made all the cakes and bread and such things that would be used during the week. As long as Sir Charles didn't specify that he wanted something freshly baked I didn't have to bake much during the week.

Sunday was a day of rest. All I had to do on Sundays was prepare and serve meals, see to the washing up, and keep things in order. On Sundays I was able to head to bed earlier, and one night I went to bed at eight-thirty! That had been a wonderful night.

I was never allowed to speak to the young master and he was never allowed to speak to me. Sir Charles was adamant about that. If Lucy had been able to turn me into an automaton then I'm sure Sir Charles would have ordered it, but fortunately, no one, demon or fiend, had quite enough power to turn living flesh to metal. As it was, he had to put up with me being a silent presence in the house whenever he and the young master were around.

It was rare that I saw the young master aside from meals. Very, very rare. Occasionally I would see him outside while I was carrying out my duties, either with Sir Charles or with Lucy, walking about the gardens, playing some game on the lawn or swinging on the swing in the back garden. He'd been swinging a lot in the past few weeks and I had a sneaking feeling that he used the excuse of swinging in order to work off nervous energy. I didn't blame him. I had plenty of opportunities in order to work off my nerves but he had a precious few.

One day at lunch I received quite a surprise when the young master deliberately knocked my arm while I was serving him. Gravy spilled over the tablecloth and Sir Charles immediately began to berate me for my clumsiness. I fetched a towel and wiped up the gravy while apologizing profusely, but that was the wrong thing to do.

"I told you I didn't want to hear your wretched voice!" Sir Charles roared, throwing his plate at my head. It broke and I felt the breaking porcelain cut my temple and as my head cleared I could feel the blood starting to trickle down the side of my face.

"Papa!" the young master cried. "It was my fault! I didn't mean to knock his elbow! You don't have to punish him for that!"

"He knows he's not to speak!" Sir Charles said sharply, glancing at the young master before glaring at me. "Get out! Go back to the kitchen! I don't want to see you for the rest of the day!"

I fled, my head pounding from my injury. I was mortified that my eyes were also stinging with tears. It wasn't just that Sir Charles had hurt me; it was that he'd treated me so abominably. I'd never had a master treat me in such a manner and it was almost more than I could bear.

Lucy found me at the sink in the scullery. I'd washed my face to remove the last remnants of Sir Charles' lunch and to clean my cut, but I'd kept my head under the faucet to drown out the sounds of distress I was making. It wasn't until the water stopped and the faucet squeaked that I realized anyone else was there.

"How's your head?" Lucy asked, pressing a clean napkin against the cut as soon as I stood up straight.

"It hurts," I hissed as the pressure she was putting on the injury made itself felt.

"I'm sorry he did that to you," Lucy said.

"Why are you apologizing?" I snapped. "He's the one who did it!"

"I could have stopped him if I'd realized what he was about to do," she continued. "We need to put a plaster on that."

I let her guide me to a stool and sat very still while she took care of my cut. By the time she'd finished my headache had gotten worse and all I wanted was to lie down, but I still had the rest of the day to get through first.

"Go upstairs and have a nap," Lucy told me as she finished her doctoring. "You don't have a concussion, so it will be safe for you to sleep. I'll be up to check on you in a bit."

"Thank you," I said, pathetically grateful for the chance to be alone. I was sure that if I stayed where I was I would have started…well, making sounds of distress again, and I didn't want that to happen. My dignity was already in tatters and there was no sense in making it worse.

I went upstairs and took off my coat, but a piece of paper fluttered to the floor as I hung it over the chair. As I picked it up I recognized the young master's handwriting.

_Dear Sebastian,_ I read. _Although Sir Charles has forbidden me from speaking to you I can still write and slip a letter into your sleeve._ _I know that being in this situation is probably ten times worse for you than it is for me. I'm sure the fact that we've already been here just makes it feel worse. I hope that you'll continue to endure as well as you have so far. I doubt that Sir Charles knows just what and who he has imprisoned with him. When the time comes, we shall surprise him. Continue as you have been doing and I shall be even more proud to call you my servant. You are truly a credit to the name of Phantomhive. Sincerely, Your Master._

I felt a smile start and work its way across my face. If any of the other Phantomhive servants had been there they would have called it my "demonic" smile. None of them knew just how close they were to the truth when they used that term to describe it. That short note proved to me that my master was still Ciel Phantomhive, who was a force to be reckoned with. At ten, he'd had enough conviction for ten men, enough to quell any doubts about forming a contract with a demon. He knew what he wanted and he would do what it took to get it. That was part of what had made his soul so alluring. The other part…well.

I would continue to endure. I would outlast Sir Charles and his pettiness. I would survive this situation intact and I would remain by my master's side. That was what made a Phantomhive butler, and a Phantomhive butler who couldn't even do that much wasn't worth his salt.

* * *

Ciel's POV:

I was furious with Sir Charles for his treatment of Sebastian. Sebastian had enough to deal with and he didn't need to have a plate thrown at him! I'd done the same thing myself once, but I doubted Sebastian ever knew just how much I'd regretted it afterward. Since my captivity I'd told myself that I didn't need to justify any of my actions to anyone, but that didn't stop me from feeling like the lowest worm who ever crawled when I did something brattish. Over the past few years I'd observed Sebastian's manners and polish and found myself imitating them unconsciously at times when the situation called for them. Sebastian was so suave at times that I often wondered where he stood in relation to other demons since he carried himself like a prince. Maybe such carriage and behaving as if he had the "manner born" was natural for him.

Sir Charles' behavior had been reprehensible for an alley rat, let alone a member of the gentry. No one with any amount of breeding treated a servant in such a manner. What really bothered me was that I had started the whole situation when I slipped my letter into Sebastian's sleeve. I'd heard it said that guilt was a heavy burden to bear and it was very true. I hoped Sebastian could forgive me.

I spent the rest of the day trying not to agitate Sir Charles. I knew that lunch had upset him so I strove to be the perfect son, one who would be happy just to spend time with "Papa." I begged and pleaded with him for a game of chess and to later go outside with me for a game of lawn bowling. At tea Lucy was with us and I regaled her practically the whole meal with a story of what "Papa" and I had done that afternoon. After tea I went with him to his office while he did his work for the day. I could tell that his business wasn't doing well from the few glances I'd given his invoices. He was neglecting it too much lately and I had a good feeling why he was doing that. He was devoting far too much time to me and I prayed for a crisis that would take him away from home. A few days of peace would be just what we all needed.

At dinner we served ourselves a la francaise from serving dishes on the table. Sebastian was not there. After supper Sir Charles and I spent the evening in the parlor and he read aloud to me until Lucy appeared to tell us that it was time for me to go to bed. By that point I was more than happy to go, so I bid "Papa" good night and followed Lucy upstairs. Once I was washed and dressed in my nightshirt I rounded on Lucy. "How is Sebastian?"

She smiled. "He is all right, Master Ciel," she told me sweetly, rubbing my shoulders.

I tried to pull away. I was in no mood for being fussed over. "Is he really all right or are you just saying that?"

"No, he is really all right," she assured me, not letting go. "I didn't expect that he would be, but he is."

He must have read my letter. That was good. Even better than that, it was marvelous! Sebastian was still Sebastian, no matter what happened to him, and I only needed to remind him of that. "I see."

She looked at me as if wishing she could open up my head and read my thoughts. She nodded. "I'm sure Sir Charles will allow him to serve at meals again tomorrow or the next day."

I nodded. "I agree."

Again, she had that look. What was she thinking? At that point she wasn't the only one who wanted to read someone's thoughts.

A crash of thunder and an almost-blinding flash of lightning outside frightened me so much that I jumped almost into her lap. "A storm?" I gasped, shivering. Ohh, I hated thunder storms. I always had nightmares when there was one at night.

"No," she said, sounding perplexed. "Something..."

"What else could that have been?" I demanded as she put me on my bed and went to the window.

As soon as she saw what it was her whole posture changed. I could practically feel her turning to ice and I shivered. "Lucy? What is it?"

She turned and smiled at me, and that smile reminded me just how not human she was. "An intruder, young master."

"An intruder?" There was a chance it was our rescue party!

"Yes," Lucy said, putting me into bed. "Go to sleep, Master Ciel."

"But I want to stay up!" I protested, but another crash of thunder drowned out my words.

Her hand covered my forehead. "Sleep."

I fell into darkness and I slept and not even the thunder could wake me.

* * *

Sebastian's POV:

Crashing thunder woke me up and lightning almost blinded me. I'd slept the rest of the day and I felt much more like myself, but I doubted I'd sleep through this storm...

I went to the window and looked out. My heart almost lurched its way out of my chest when I saw a silhouette of someone standing on the wall that bordered the estate. Something about that person...It looked like Marcellus! In a moment I had the window open to get a better look and there was no doubt about it. Marcellus had come! He was here! Surely his power was greater than that of a young fiend!

Thinking that, I felt a pang of regret. Lucy wasn't bad for a fiend and she was only following her master's orders. She didn't deserve to have Marcellus kill her for contracting with the wrong human.

A flash across the lawn revealed Lucy, running full tilt toward the wall. I heard her shout something at Marcellus, but she wasn't loud enough for me to make out the words.

"Where are they?" Marcellus roared, bringing up his fist to bang on something. Once again there was a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning. Ah, at last I understood. Lucy had put up some kind of a barrier around the estate in order to keep Marcellus out.

Lucy giggled something.

"Do you wish to die?" Marcellus shouted. "Release them!"

Lucy giggled again. Was she mad? Was I the only one who could see how dangerous her situation was? I was sure that if the barrier hadn't been there he would have already killed her.

Marcellus pummeled the barrier in front of him, setting off a volley of flashes and crashes that left my head ringing and my eyes dazzled. Why on earth did he think that hitting the barrier that much would accomplish anything when it hadn't done anything in the first place?

"Sebastian!" Marcellus shouted, his voice echoing. "Sebastian! Where are you?"

I doubted he would hear me over his own roaring, but I called anyway. "Here!"

His face lifted and he smiled. For the first time, Lucy seemed frightened. That smile had done what his fury had failed to do.

"Reclaim your true self!" Marcellus shouted. "You are closer than you know! Remember who and what you truly are!"

I didn't understand. I knew who and what I truly was and I wanted more than anything to return to my old self. What eluded me was how to do that.

"Be what you really are!" Marcellus shouted as the barrier flashed again.

"How?" I shouted. "How?"

"Be what you really are!"

All well and good, but how did I do that?

Heavy footsteps outside my door warned me of someone approaching. My door crashed open, revealing Sir Charles. All sanity had left his eyes and I knew that he fully intended to kill me.

"Shut up!" he shouted, lunging for me. "I'm always hearing you! I can never get away from your voice!"

Yes, he'd departed from sanity and there was no way he'd be returning. I dodged, trying to get away from him, but his fist connected with my head and knocked me into the open window. For the second time that day I was in pain and my dignity had taken yet another blow. I didn't understand why he'd fixated on my voice as the source of his torment, but that wasn't important. What was important was getting away from him and surviving tonight.

"What do I have to do to stop hearing your voice?" Sir Charles shrieked. "What?"

I fought to get to my feet and away from him. My head was pounding and blood was starting to run into my eyes. Suddenly, I knew what it was to fear death. "Get away from me!" Why was I so afraid? He had no right to treat me or anyone in such a manner! He'd pushed himself into the young master's life and through his orders to Marcellus had ended my contract with him and turned me human. How dare he do this? _How dare he?_

The anger and hatred in me grew until it became a fire that started to burn me up from within. It flooded me, filling my body and my heart began to pound so hard that I was sure it would pound its way out of my chest. What was this? What was it?

FIRE.

I screamed as it ignited in my chest and spread outward across my chest and along my limbs. It reached my head and I screamed again, the pain almost more than I could stand. When the pain had first hit me I'd clenched my eyes shut, but now my eyes were open and..

AND...

I could see. I could see the way I was used to seeing. What...? I was seeing as a demon!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Glee that could definitely be called "unholy" rushed through me as I realized what had happened. I had regained my demon nature and only now did I understand what had been needed for that to take place. I needed to indulge myself in rage and hatred—a demon did not forgive others or brush off his feelings; that was a human thing. No, a demon was essentially rage and hatred with a sense of aesthetics. Oh, we hated humans because they could gain Paradise and we raged at being denied it, but that was because we had the whole range of feelings that humans had while we were forever denied the grace they were freely given. That was why we so often hunted them for their souls so we would know that at least those souls were trapped with us, forever barred from Paradise itself. All we knew was hell, and I was about to share some of it with Sir Charles…

"Why are you grinning like that?" Sir Charles hissed. "When I'm through with you…"

I laughed. I rarely laughed like that, but a human always knew that it wasn't a human laughing when they heard me. They knew I was something else entirely.

My laugh brought Sir Charles up short and when I looked at him I saw realization dawn on his face. "What's happened to you?" he demanded.

I got to my feet and stood up straight, still smiling. "I've gone back to myself, Sir Charles," I said politely with a cold smile. "I must say I feel much better."

He stared at me and I saw him taking in the differences in my eyes, my shadow, my stance and voice. He knew that without the young master present, there was no one who could stop me from killing him in a fairly violent way. I was quite looking forward to it.

"Lucy!" Sir Charles called.

"Here, master," I heard from the hallway. It looked like the little nursemaid had gotten inside and upstairs very quickly.

Sir Charles pointed at me. "Kill him."

She stood between us suddenly, looking from Sir Charles to me and back again. "Kill him, master? Why?"

"Because I wish it!"

"But you told me I was to keep him in good health," she protested. "Killing him would not do that!"

"Forget about my earlier orders!" Sir Charles snapped. "Carry out the ones I'm giving you now!"

WHAM.

"I'd think again about following those orders if I were you, little one," Marcellus said. I hadn't even seen him approach, but suddenly he had his hand around Sir Charles throat and was holding him up against a wall. Sir Charles was gagging and choking but I knew that if he didn't struggle too much he would still be able to breathe.

Lucy froze, staring at Marcellus. "How did you get around the barrier?"

Marcellus smiled and turned his head to look at her. "You did a fine job of erecting a barrier around and over the estate, but you forgot to extend it under the ground past the wall. All I had to do was dig my way in."

"Hmph," Lucy muttered, glaring at him.

"Lucy," Sir Charles rasped. "Make him let go of me."

Marcellus tightened his grip before Lucy could move. "I would stay just where you are, my dear. You wouldn't want your precious master to lose his head, would you?"

Lucy looked from him to Sir Charles and back again. "Please let go of him."

Marcellus chuckled bleakly. "Oh, no, little one. I'm not about to do that. Now, where is the young master?"

She glared at Marcellus and the room grew colder. "Asleep, hopefully, but with all the noise you've been making..."

"Go and bring him here."

"Don't, Lucy," Sir Charles croaked, still fighting against the hand around his throat. "Don't let these beasts anywhere near my son."

Fury flooded through me. "He's not your son!" I said fiercely. "He was never your son! Your child is dead and buried! The boy asleep downstairs is my young master!" I couldn't believe I'd lost my temper like that, but I'd felt it coming ever since I'd woken up in this second imprisonment. Anger had been building up in me the whole time and now I no longer had to bury it.

"Nonsense," Sir Charles rasped. "He calls me 'Papa'."

"He does that to placate you," Marcellus said flatly. "Now, Lucy, I'll give you a choice. You can go get the young master or I can kill Sir Charles now. Which will it be?"

She didn't even answer. She was gone within a moment.

Marcellus shifted his attention to Sir Charles. "I hope you've been treating Sebastian kindly since he's been here," he said pleasantly. "I would be very upset if the case were otherwise."

Sir Charles choked and once again fought to get free. "Let go!"

"You did treat him well, didn't you?" Marcellus continued. "Hmm?"

I didn't tell him the treatment I'd received and I didn't know why I chose to do that. It must have been some lingering human feeling, but it kept me silent.

"I treated him exactly as he deserved," Sir Charles ground out at last.

Marcellus was saved from any response by the return of Lucy with the young master. He was asleep in her arms and it looked like he was asleep due to her actions rather than sleeping on his own. Demons and fiends were able to make humans sleep when they wished them to do so but right now it looked like Lucy had overdone it a bit. The young master was deeply asleep and it didn't look as if anything would wake him until he slept himself out. Either that, or a pitcher of cold water dashed in his face.

"Lucy, what are you doing? Get him out of here!" Sir Charles ordered. "Stop this man!"

Lucy looked as if she didn't know which order to follow first. Suddenly I felt the strongest urge to wrap my hands around Marcellus' throat and my arms came up as I began to walk toward him. What...? Oh. Lucy still had her thrall on me. She was making me do this. Well, I wouldn't! I'd endured enough of being under someone's thumb and having to follow orders because I was compelled to! I wasn't going to allow this any longer!

"I'd take the thrall off of him before he kills you, little one," Marcellus said darkly. "Or before I do."

Lucy backed away from me as I put one foot toward her. It was a struggle, but I was able to turn myself in her direction rather than continue in the direction she wished me to go. Her eyes grew wide as I drew closer, she backed away and stumbled...and fell...She hit my nightstand, toppling the water ewer and splashing herself and the young master with the entire contents of the container. The young master gasped and my theory about dashing cold water in his face was proved correct. He was awake and within moments his eyes took in the whole situation.

"Sebastian, this is an order!" he shouted. "Pick me up!"

An audible snap filled the room as I rushed to obey, and the feeling of Lucy's thrall on me dissipated as quickly as a drop of water evaporating in a dessert. "Yes, my lord," I said, and suddenly I was holding the young master.

"You took your time getting back to your old self," he said.

Some remaining vestige of humanity in me was rather hurt at his comment while the rapidly growing demon nature rejoiced at his return to his usual self. "My apologies, my lord."

"Hmph," he said, folding his arms and looking about. "Well, this is interesting. We have your friend Marcellus about to kill Sir Charles and the fiend contracted to Sir Charles seems powerless to stop him. Whatever shall she do?"

Some part of me felt rather sorry for Lucy. She was powerless-both Marcellus and I were far older than she was, and not only had we had time to gain more power, we'd been learning how to use it and how to fight with it for centuries longer than she'd been alive. If she tried to battle the both of us she would be killed. It was that simple.

"Ciel," Sir Charles rasped, still clawing at Marcellus' hand. "Ciel, run! Get away from them!"

My master turned and glared at him. "You stay quiet," he said. "I'm sick of playing your games!"

Marcellus chuckled. "What would you like me to do with him, young master?" Marcellus asked, turning to give the both of us a look. "Sebastian, what would you suggest? Surely you two can think of a little revenge you'd like to carry out?"

Oh, the ideas that simple question conjured up! I had a million ideas and even more plans, but I was not the only one Sir Charles had injured. No, the revenge enacted on Sir Charles would depend upon my young master's wishes. I looked at the young master, and to my surprise he had a very serious expression on his face. What was moving through that mind of his?

"Break the contract between him and Lucy, Marcellus," my young master ordered.

_Crrracck!_

Lucy screamed, and I saw her collapse on the floor in a dead faint. Sir Charles let out a garbled scream as well and glared at Marcellus.

"Is it possible to keep him from ever contracting with another demon or fiend again?"

Marcellus chuckled. "Oh, yes, young master."

"Then do it."

The revenge was too perfect. I understood exactly what my master was doing and I found myself applauding him for it. He was arranging it so that Sir Charles would never be able to take either him or me or anyone else prisoner again with the help of a demon or fiend. It was brilliant.

Sir Charles screamed and writhed under Marcellus' hand, and at last Marcellus released him, allowing him to drop to the floor. It was rather fascinating to watch him twisting about like someone in a mad fit. I watched, but at last the young master looked away. A human could only stand to watch such things for a short time unless he was absolutely without any human feeling. I knew that despite the traumas in his past and his anger and bitterness, he still felt for others. That was part of what made his soul so tantalizing.

At last, Sir Charles stopped screaming and lay on the floor, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. The young master glanced at him and then quickly looked away. "Is he dead?" he asked.

"No, just deeply in a form of shock," Marcellus assured him. "I promise. He'll wake up with an awful headache and aching in every joint, but he'll never be able to form any sort of contract again."

The young master smiled. "Good. I'd like him returned to Bedlam. That's where he belongs."

Marcellus grinned and I felt the young master shiver, either from the soaking or from Marcellus' smile. "Very good, sir," Marcellus said. "What shall I do about Lucy?"

My master glanced at her. "Put her on Sebastian's bed for the time being. While you return Sir Charles to Bedlam I want Sebastian to remain with me. Once you've delivered him to Bedlam return to the Phantomhive estate."

Marcellus bowed and began to follow orders. Lucy was placed on my bed and tucked in before Marcellus disappeared with Sir Charles. I had a strong feeling that when Sir Charles awoke in Bedlam he would be truly convinced that his escape and our imprisonment had only been a madness-induced dream.

"I'm cold," my master said. "I want a hot bath and something hot to eat."

I smiled. "Yes, my lord."

In short order my master was left soaking in a hot bath and I'd gone down to the kitchen. Within a short amount of time I'd thrown together a savory soup and a hot sandwich and a pot of tea and carried it all up to my master. I helped him out of the tub and and into dry clothes and a minute or so later he was enjoying a hearty meal. It looked like his appetite had come back with a vengeance and enough determination to flatten him and I had to fight down a smile as he had second helpings. When he finally put down his silverware and leaned back in his chair he had the sleepy, content look of a well-fed child.

"You followed all those orders even though neither of us has a mark of contract with the other," he said, his eyelids drooping. "Why?"

"Because I wished to, young master," I told him. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," he said. "I'd like to return to the Phantomhive estate, though. I'm sick of being here. What do you suggest we do about Lucy?"

I thought about it. "Really, I have no clue. She may choose to go off on her own or attempt to avenge herself for the loss of her meal, but..."

"I guess we can't predict what she'll do," my master finished. "I see." He sipped his tea and let himself get lost in his own thoughts while I tidied things away. Even if we were leaving it would not do for a Phantomhive butler to leave things in a mess.

"How long have I been asleep?"

I turned and saw Lucy standing in the doorway, looking like a lost child.

"About two hours or so," I told her. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," she said flatly, moving to the table and sitting down across from my master. She glared at him. "It's your fault."

My master placed his teacup in its saucer. "My fault?"

"You ordered him to break the contract," she snapped. "It was my first contract and I was the perfect nursemaid! Who knows when I'll get another contract that was as much fun?"

"I'm sure you'll find something," my master said. "The world is full of people who are desperate for help from uncanny sources."

She huffed. "Oh, sure, I've got people lining up to make contracts right now." I nearly chuckled at the tone of her voice. She sounded like any adolescent girl who was upset about something.

"It's not my fault you contracted with a madman with enemies," my master said sharply.

"Did you have to have that one man end the contract?" she growled. "I'm old enough to eat souls now, you know, and I'm getting hungry."

"Well, go eat his soul, then," my master snarled. "I'm not stopping you."

"I can't without a mark of contract!" she shouted. "Now you've made him so that he can never form another contract, so thank you very much!"

My master's expression didn't change. "You're welcome."

She scowled at him. "I'm welcome?"

"If you'd eaten Sir Charles' soul, it's likely you would have been sick since he was mad. Do you think a mad soul would have been a treat?"

I thought about it and I had to admit the young master had a point. Mad souls tasted...well, they tasted odd at best. At worst, well, it didn't bear thinking about. Usually, I tried to steer away from forming contracts with the mad. "He's right, Lucy," I said. "Mad souls don't taste very well."

I could tell she wasn't convinced, but she was quiet.

"What will you do now that Sir Charles is in Bedlam?" the young master asked.

She looked at him, but I could tell that her glare lacked the level of ice it had had before. "I suppose I'll try to find another contract," she said thoughtfully. "Either that or I'll return home for a while and try again later."

"A sensible decision," I told her.

She turned to glare at me. I could tell she was still upset, but it was fading quickly. "Did you return home after a contract of yours failed?"

"I've had two contracts fail in my lifetime, and yes, I did return home," I said. In this form, it was not in my nature to lie. "I felt quite much more like myself after spending some time there."

I could tell she was thinking about it and she was almost convinced. "I'll think about it."

I was glad that she was thinking about it. A young fiend could get herself into a great deal of trouble through inexperience and I was positive that a little more time spent at home would give her the opportunity she needed to mature a little more.

She looked from me to the young master. "What will you two do now?"

"We're returning to the Phantomhive estate," my master told her. "I certainly don't want to live here."

She nodded. "I'll be leaving, too," she said. "Is there anything you wanted to take with you? I could pack it for you."

I fought down a smile. Even after her contract had been ended she still wanted to be the perfect nursemaid. A fiend with a sense of aesthetics. Who knew?

"No, there's nothing I want to take with me," he said politely. "Thank you, though."

For the first time since she'd walked in the door, she smiled. "You're welcome."

We didn't extend our leave-taking. As soon as my master declared himself ready I helped him put on a coat and hat and we said our goodbyes to Lucy.

"I hope I see the two of you again," she said as we left. "I'm still angry about the lost contract, but I'd be stupid to try to fight you about it, Sebastian, or to try to hurt your master."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn't wanted to fight with her; I'd surely kill her. "I'm glad you decided not to fight me over it," I said. "I've come to like you quite a bit."

She gave me a bright smile. "Aww, you're so cute!"

My master stared at her the same way he would regard something truly frightening. What was running through his head? "Cute?" he said.

She nodded. "Very," she assured him. "You're cute, too. You're a pretty cute human, and Sebastian is a cute demon. It makes me want to squidge you both!"

I fought the urge to back away while my master did back away. "No squidging required, Lucy," he said easily. "Thank you for being such a good nursemaid."

"And thank you very much for taking such good care of me while I was human," I added, hoping I could avoid being squidged. No demon anywhere worth his salt would put up with such a thing.

She gave us a happy nod. Once again, I was struck with how child-like she could be. "I was glad to do it," she said. "I hope to see you both again." With that, she ran off, disappearing in short order.

Thank goodness. We'd managed to avoid being squidged.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, young master?"

"What is squidging?"

I chuckled. "Her word for a hug, most likely," I said.

He nodded. "That's what I thought." He shook himself and shuddered. "I never thought I'd see a version of Lizzy in something like a demon."

I nearly burst out laughing. I hadn't made the connection, but he was right. In many ways, Lucy was quite like Lady Elizabeth. Interesting!

"Let's go home," he said, straightening his shoulders and pulling himself up to his full height and dignity. "I belong at the Phantomhive manor, not this place."

I felt myself smile and sank to one knee. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

We got back to the Phantomhive estate just as the sun was rising. My master had fallen asleep during our journey from Yorkshire and as I carried him inside the gates of the manor I could feel his body relax. The estate was his ancestral home, so it was natural that he would feel most at home here, even when asleep. I took him inside and smiled when I saw the servants, Soma, and Agni lined up to greet us in whispers.

"Hello," I whispered. "It's good to be back. How did you know we were coming?"

"Mr. Marcellus telephoned," Agni said. "He said to expect you. The earl's room is prepared and breakfast will be ready shortly."

I smiled. "Thank you, Agni."

I carried my master upstairs and laid him on his bed so I could undress him and prepare him for bed. While I changed his clothes I realized just how thin and pale he'd become during our latest captivity. I'd have to do what I could to make sure he put the lost weight back on and regained his color. It wouldn't do for my master to become ill. Five minutes later I was tucking him in and settling him for a good long sleep, but when I turned away from the bed I realized that at some point his hand had crept into mine and was holding on. I smiled and took a seat in a chair by the bed. Once he relaxed I was sure he would let go of my hand and I could get back to my duties.

I didn't do it often, but I indulged myself by letting my mind wander. My master was asleep and not likely to need anything from me other than my presence and Agni would be able to handle the job of butler a little while longer. It was safe to let myself daydream and to try to process everything that had happened. My human emotions had faded, thank goodness, and I was no longer terribly upset over Sir Charles' treatment of me. Instead, I was just annoyed. How could anyone behave in such an appalling manner? It defied all understanding.

I was deep in my thoughts, but I sensed Marcellus when he arrived on the estate. I could feel him drawing closer and it wasn't long before he was sitting beside me. While I watched the young master sleep, he watched me watch the young master. Finally, I couldn't quell my curiosity and I turned and looked at him. "What is it?"

"I was afraid you would be killed while you were human," he said, still staring. "Are you all right?"

I nodded. I knew what he was asking. "Yes, I'm all right."

"Is there anything you want to ask me?"

I did have questions. A lot of questions, really, but first things first. "What took you so long?"

He smiled. "You know how fiends are masters of deception?"

I nodded. While we demons prided ourselves on never lying, fiends had no such impulses. They would lie whenever necessary in order to get what they wanted and they wouldn't hesitate to do other things like building illusions to serve their purposes. "Lucy tricked you?"

"She's rather clever," Marcellus said, sounding impressed in spite of himself. "I set off right away as soon as I regained consciousness but it wasn't long before I got rather lost. Everytime I tried to head to Yorkshire I ended up headed back towards London and once I was almost to Penzance before I realized it and turned myself around."

I fought down a chuckle. Poor Marcellus! "How did you finally get there?"

"I sat down and forced myself to study the illusion I was caught in. After a few days of studying its structure I was able to break it and then I headed straight to Yorkshire and to you."

"I was glad you came when you did," I said. "The situation was becoming tedious."

"I don't doubt it," he said, clasping my shoulder. "What will you do now?"

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"You no longer have a contract with Ciel," he said. "If he chooses not to renew it, what will you do?"

For a moment, I was speechless. Never, in all the time I'd spent since I'd become human and then reverting back to my demon self had I thought that my young master would not renew the contract. After all, we hadn't obtained his revenge, but if he viewed this as a chance to perhaps go to Paradise when he died...he might not renew it. He might reject me entirely and I would be without my meal and he would just be a normal boy who'd lost his parents, rather than a boy who'd contracted with a demon. "He hasn't told me to go," I said at last. "I'll stay until he tells me to stay or go."

"And if he doesn't want you to stay?"

What was this odd pounding in my chest? Why did I feel as if my throat were closing up? Was this some human emotion left lurking around in my mind? "I suppose I'll go." Why did that sentence make me feel so uncomfortable?

Marcellus' hand wrapped around the back of my neck and his fingers began to massage the tense muscles. "Will you go home?"

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I will, and maybe I'll stay in this world and find another contract." Technically, the young master and I had an unfulfilled contract since we hadn't accomplished his revenge, but it had been broken when I became human. There was nothing I could to re-establish it until my master said the words to made that possible. We demons were not allowed to interfere with a human's free will: We could not force a contract on someone in any way, although we could tempt them when they were desperate. The choice they made then, to accept the contract or not, was entirely up to them. We were not allowed to place a human in circumstances where they would choose the contract and we were not allowed to interfere in their choices. It was all up to them whether we gained a contract or not.

I'd just never considered that my master might not want to re-establish the contract. I knew him almost as well as he knew himself and sometimes I had a better insight into his mind and motivations than he did. He'd been a happy child when he'd been young and the love and care his parents had lavished on him had given him confidence and a deep concern for other living beings, whether humans, animals, or even demons. Good teaching and plenty of challenging reading material had honed his already sharp intellect so that at ten he'd been studying things most young men preparing for university studied. His parents had allowed him to fail when necessary so he would become resilient and they'd offered him advice only when something was truly beyond him. If his parents hadn't been murdered, then he would have been well on the way to becoming a formidable young man and a natural leader that other men would be drawn to. They would have wanted to follow him, but I knew that fate had intervened. He'd become bitter during that month spent in capitivity and he'd lost faith in the goodness of men and in God. I knew he was determined to make his tormenters and those people responsible for his humiliation suffer, but what if he felt able to do that on his own, without me?

What would I do if he told me to go?


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

It is not in the nature of a demon to fret endlessly about things that cannot be changed. Oh, we could worry with the best of them about things when we felt inclined to do so, but mostly we tried to have a little dignity about such matters.

Nonetheless, I'd forgotten all about dignity. I was worried. More than that, I was fretting like a simpleton. Outwardly I appeared calm and my usual self whenever I was around others, but when I was on my own I paced. I, Sebastian Michaelis, was pacing! Oh, I'd paced before when Marcellus had helped Sir Charles hold us prisoner, but now I was at perfect liberty and _that_ was part of what was worrying me!

If it wouldn't have been so undignified, I would have gone outside at night and screamed at the stars. Childish? Yes. Pointless? Indubitably, but I would have felt better.

No one, not even Marcellus, seemed to see anything was wrong. Even Agni, who could pick up on my moods for some inexplicable reason, failed to notice anything about my real reasons for worrying. I couldn't understand it.

"You'll feel better soon," he said to me one morning while he and I prepared lunch.

"I'm sorry?" I said, not understanding.

"You've been tense and unhappy ever since coming back from your latest kidnapping," he said, peeling and chopping onions for onion soup. "You'll feel better once you've come to terms with what's happened to you and you won't feel so worried."

"I can't help worrying," I said flatly as I seasoned the broth for the soup. "That's what I've been doing every minute of every day now."

"Let me do some of the worrying for you," he suggested. "I can help you protect your master, Sebastian."

While I was grateful to Agni for making such an unselfish suggestion, I couldn't help but feel a trifle irked that I couldn't tell him everything.

The only person who seemed to realize what was bothering me was Grell, which didn't make me feel any better. When he saw that I'd regained my demon nature he squealed and started gushing about how great it was to have me back again despite how gorgeous I'd been as a human. He began to follow me about while I carried out my duties, which annoyed me so much that there were times when I wanted to indulge my murderous impulses. While I was grateful to him for being a stalwart friend all through my captivity and other trials, there were limits!

"I don't see why you're so grouchy," he whined one morning not long after our return. "You're a demon again, aren't you? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, it was what I wanted," I admitted.

"So what's got you so hot and bothered, hmmm?" Grell said, flopping onto a couch and grinning. "C'mon, you can tell me."

He made it sound as if he were encouraging me to divulge some secret about my intimate life. "I'm not about to tell you while you're asking me in that tone," I said darkly.

"Oh, pooh, you're no fun," he complained. "All right. Will you tell your friend Grell what's wrong? I know there's something and it's possible I could help."

I considered this while he kept coaxing and cajoling. Could he help? He would understand what a human was thinking better than I would despite my long association with the human in question since a shinigami was closer to a human than a demon, so it seemed possible. "I am worried that my master will not renew the contract."

"Ah, so that's why you've stayed here all this time without a contract!" he said brightly. "I'd wondered what you were up to! You're hoping he'll renew it!"

"I'm hoping for that very much," I confessed. "But so far, there's been no mention of it."

Grell leaned his chin on his hand and appeared to think. "I have a feeling that you won't know what he intends until he decides to tell you," he said at last. "I don't think Ciel is the type of boy to announce his intentions to all and sundry."

"You're correct," I agreed. "That's been my experience so far."

"I also don't think that you should worry too much," he told me. "I have a feeling you'll know sooner or later if he wants to renew the contract or not. Now, enough about the child, let's talk about you and me, Sebas-chan!"

I could have murdered him. Switching from the serious to the ridiculous could upset me very much, and I knew Grell was aware of this.

Even more upsetting was my young master's behavior. During the day he followed his usual routines and put up with Soma for as long as his patience held out, but at night he had nightmares that would often end with him waking in a screaming fit. Such screams would draw every adult in the house to his room, all of us hurrying to reassure and calm him. Seeing him in one of these fits affected Marcellus so much that the next day he sent for Dr. Lewis. He explained the issue and insisted that the doctor examine the young master, but when he heard the prescription that Dr. Lewis suggested to treat the sleep difficulties he launched a fit that was terrible to behold.

"Absolutely not!" he shouted, leaping to his feet from his seat in the easy chair. "I'm not about to take drugs just to help me sleep!"

I winced at the volume in the young master's voice. He must have been using every bit of breath in his lungs to project his voice like that.

"Ciel, the preparation is very mild," Dr. Lewis protested. "It won't have any lasting effect on you and it will enable you to rest. You have to admit that after your latest ordeal you need it."

He was right on that score. Dark shadows colored the areas under my master's eyes and he was pale and very thin from lost weight.

"No," my master said emphatically. "I won't swallow any of it. I refuse."

"Ciel," Dr. Lewis said in a reasonable tone. "I'm sure…"

"Don't you dare try any of that 'you're just a child and sometimes need an adult to tell you what to do' garbage," my master interrupted. "Don't you _dare_. I'm not going to listen to it and I'm not about to take something that will make me fuzzy-headed just so I'll sleep. Do you understand, doctor?"

"Oh, I understand," Dr. Lewis said, looking ready to slap my master upside the head. "However, if you don't get the rest you need soon you'll be courting illness, and then what will you do?"

"I'll be fine," my young master said. "I don't think I'll become ill. Thank you for coming, doctor."

Recognizing a dismissal when he heard one, Dr. Lewis nodded his head and put on his hat before looking where I stood with Marcellus. "I give up. Do something with him, won't you? I'm sure he'll listen to the two of you better than he will to me."

My master ignored the doctor as he left, which surprised me. Normally he wouldn't indulge himself in doing anything so rude. "Idiot," I heard him mutter. Oh, he _was_ annoyed.

"He's just concerned about you," Marcellus said.

A second later he ducked as a book flew at his head. "Really, now!" Marcellus said, too surprised to say anything else. I was surprised, too. My master's speed and aim had improved.

"He wasn't concerned until you called him," my master snapped. "Look at me! Do you think I'm about to collapse from illness, Marcellus?"

The temperature in the room dropped and suddenly I could see Marcellus' true form swirling around him. "Have a care, little one," he said, his voice resonating in his chest. "I'll indulge you a great deal because I wish to, but there are some things I won't tolerate from you or anyone."

My master stared at him. "Understood, Marcellus," he said, surprising me once again. "I apologize. Such an action was unbefitting an earl." He tilted his head to the side and gave Marcellus a thoughtful look. "You know, if you made your eyes flash a little every now and then, you would look even more impressive."

A chuckle worked its way out of Marcellus' throat and the room grew warmer. "I trust your judgment, young master."

A new thought occurred to me and I had to quell the rising panic with herculean effort. What if my master chose to form a contract with Marcellus? It was fully possible. Marcellus was not only an excellent butler but he indulged himself by showing affection for others. Humans thrived on that and I knew that deep down, the young master craved it as well. Why else would he have asked me to stay by his side while he went to sleep? Why else had he put my arm around himself at Sir Charles' when he'd been feeling worried and overwhelmed? Why did he ask for my stories? Why did he relax whenever I was near? Humans bonded with the people near them and developed a regard for them, so it followed reason that my master would develop a regard for me as well.

Still…

I had poured so much effort into cultivating my young master. I had lavished care on him and I'd given him such devotion…I had done things for him that I'd never done for any master I'd ever had. With most of my other masters I had followed only the orders given to me, but with my young master I'd often followed my own initiatives and did things unasked simply because I knew they would please him.

Oh, he knew my real nature well enough and that I was a demon and that we just didn't do such things since we were, in a sense, enemies. Demons had always considered themselves enemies of humans. Humans had the chance of paradise while we had never had a chance, so we held a grudge against humanity for that. Our kinds were always locked in some sort of battle, and when one of us ate a soul, we counted it as a victory.

The other thing that we largely hated was that human souls were the only meals that really satisfied us. Humans enraged us yet we had to depend on them for sustenance. Most irksome, really, but it was true. Over the centuries we'd learned how to change or enhance the taste of a soul so that it was more satisfying. Each thing I knew to improve a soul's flavor I'd done while serving my young master. I'd allowed him to indulge his rage and anger to give the soul a little spice and when he hated someone the soul gained a little bitterness that could surprise the palate. When he was frightened the soul took on a sour flavor and when he was surprised the soul gained a sharp taste. Also, I'd helped him feel protected. I'd shown him consideration. I'd helped him feel safe. Finally, I'd given him what affection I was able to give him. Demons were not able to feel love for others the way humans could, but we could show it and help others feel that we loved them. All of those actions would sweeten his soul and give it a nice, savory flavor.

Now, it looked as if all that effort would be gone. He hadn't mentioned reforming the contract.

Bleak. All was bleak.

One thing I didn't want to admit to myself was how I felt. For a demon, a human was just a meal. That was all, just a piece of nourishment. One could remember a meal fondly, of course, especially if it was tasty. Humans remembered their favorite foods with fondness, so a demon could do the same, but what I felt went beyond what was normal feeling for a particularly good meal. Instead, I _felt_. I worried about my young master without worrying about how this or that would affect the taste of his soul. Instead, I worried about how it would affect _him_. I worried if he was worried, I worried if he was frightened or unhappy, and I worried that he would make himself ill like the doctor said he would if he continued as he'd been doing until now. I fretted that he wasn't getting enough sleep and I felt a pang of panic whenever I saw that he'd barely touched his meals no matter what was put in front of him. I grew more anxious as time went by and one day I practically invented a dish for him in hopes that he would eat it, but back it came to the kitchen, barely touched. Agni and Marcellus both looked at me when the dish came back, but I thought I hid my concern well.

I should have known that they wouldn't be fooled.

"All it will take is time," Agni said, repeating that old saw about time healing all wounds.

"How much more time will it take?" I asked ruefully, staring at the still-full plate.

"As much time as he needs, Sebastian," Marcellus said, putting his hands on my shoulders in an attempt to comfort me. "You'll see. Things will be all right."

* * *

"SEBASTIAN!"

The scream brought me running from my office and I pelted down the hallway and burst into my master's bedroom. I'd put him to bed only a few hours ago, but it looked like a nightmare had done its work once again. He was crouched in the middle of his bed with his hands over his head and he was shaking. I recognized the noises he was making and I got him to the bathroom in time so he could be violently ill in a place where a mess wouldn't matter. He shook while I fetched him cool drinking water and he kept shaking while I helped him clean up and change into a fresh nightshirt.

He was still trembling when I helped him back to bed, but he seemed calm enough to talk.

"Did you have a nightmare, young master?" I asked as I tucked him back under the covers.

He nodded. "An awful one."

"Would you like to talk about it?" I knew that allowing human beings to talk about what frightened them helped them work through it and lose their fear, so I was willing to listen. A human being weighed down by fears was not a healthy human being.

"Not yet," he said, his voice shaking. "It's still too real. Just stay with me for a while."

"I will be with you for as long as you wish, young master," I said, meaning every word.

He buried his head in his pillow and sighed, still grappling with his fear. Slowly, his hand snaked its way across the bedcovers and took my hand, holding onto it with a grip that would have been painful if I'd been human. As it was, it surprised me quite a bit. Whatever dream that had been, it had been a terrible one to make him behave so.

"I can't make it stop," he said at last. "Every time I close my eyes, the same thing happens."

"What happens?" I asked quietly.

"I'm back _there_," he said. "I'm in that place, and Sir Charles is there, too. They're about to cut my throat, but Sir Charles snatches me up before they can and he hugs me, telling me he'll keep me safe, but his arms get tighter and tighter and I know I'll be crushed. I can't get enough air to tell him to stop, I can't get enough breath to call you, I can't do anything. Once again, I'm a helpless _child_."

My master had a very convoluted set of fears, but one that overwhelmed him at times was the fear of being helpless. I'd seen countless instances of it over the years and each time the fear manifested itself I could remember my master frantically working to convince himself that he was safe and that there were things he could do to give himself some small measure of protection and reassurance. I knew that a great deal of that reassurance came from my presence. After all, our contract stipulated that I would protect and serve him until his revenge was complete. A demon's protection was no small thing.

"That's not even the worst thing," he continued. "Sir Charles stops crushing me but then he starts smothering me, saying that no one will ever hurt me again, he'll take care of me and protect me, but he doesn't realize that I'm broken and bleeding and in pain...each time he touches me my whole body hurts, but he doesn't hear me scream. No one hears me..."

"I heard you scream for me," I said, using my other hand to stroke the back of his hand. "I will always hear when you call me."

"I scream for you a lot in my dreams," he said in a choked whisper. "All the time, I'm screaming for you, but you just turn and walk away..."

I didn't realize what I'd planned to do until after I did it. I removed my hand from my master's, wrapped my arms around him, picked him up, and held him like the smallest child. "I will never leave your side, young master," I said quietly, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm his trembling. "Even if you should order me to go now, I will always be nearby. I will protect you."

"I doubt that," he said flatly.

I nearly dropped him in shock. "You do?"

"You don't want to serve me anymore," he said in that same flat tone.

"What makes you think that, young master?"

"I just know it," he said. "I mean, why else?"

He was beginning to lose me. Human logic was definitely interesting, but at the moment I wished I had a better understanding of it. "I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord."

He turned his head to look at me. "You don't want a contract with me anymore, but you haven't told me yet. You don't want to tell me or you don't know how to explain it, so that's why you haven't told me, but you don't need to _pretend_ like you're doing!"

Now I was completely floored. _He_ thought _I_ didn't want a contract with him any longer? Incredible! Even more incredible was the fact that he thought I was pretending to want to stay! He thought I hadn't told him I was leaving because I didn't know how to tell him! I think I surprised both him and myself when I started laughing.

"It isn't funny!" he snapped, staring at me as if I had lost my mind. "Don't laugh at me!"

"It's not that," I managed to choke. "I'm not laughing at you, young master, I'm laughing because it's so funny."

"I don't see anything funny at all," he said darkly. "What's so funny?"

I couldn't help myself. I kept laughing and I knew I really surprised him when I held him close and hugged him. I was still laughing and my mirth shook my whole body, his body, and the bed we were sitting on. I was still laughing helplessly and my spine lost all ability to support me. I dropped back onto the mattress, still holding my master, and now he lay on my chest, staring at me as if I had lost my mind.

"Sebastian, what's wrong with you?" he said, sounding uncertain.

I cuddled him. There was no other word for what I did and I'm certain that my young master was even more surprised than I was. What surprised me even more was that he didn't demand I stop. Then again, he wasn't saying anything at all. He was just staring at me and I could tell he was wondering if he should call for Agni or Marcellus. "Sebastian?" he said quietly.

I understood what he was asking, but I didn't sit up again and I didn't loosen my arms. "I apologize, bocchan," I said fondly. "I was laughing because the situation struck me as humorous. Well, really, in the circumstances it's rather hilarious when I think about it, but..." I got a good look at him and realized I had better get to the point before he throttled me. "The reason why the situation struck me as funny is because I was afraid you didn't want to renew the contract with me."

He stared at me. "Why on earth would you think something stupid like that?" he demanded.

"You hadn't mentioned renewing it, young master," I reminded him. "I thought that if you wanted to renew it you would have said something."

He didn't laugh, but he did smile. "I thought the same thing. You see, without the contract, you're the one with all the power, and it was in your power or not to offer it."

How could I explain the hold he had over me? That hold was what gave _him_ all the power. There was no doubt about that.

I found myself cuddling him again. "Oh, young master, what a pair we make!"

He chuckled, the tension leaving his body. "Yes, we do make quite a pair."

He seemed content to let me hold him until Doomsday. Interesting. Even more interesting was that I would be content to hold him just as long. "Would you still like a contract with me, young master?"

"Yes, I'd like one, but I have to admit I'm curious," he said, sitting up as I sat up. "Why have you stayed all this time when you could have been out in the world getting other contracts? You could have had a feast!"

"Well, there are feasts and there are feasts," I told him. "And there are contracts and there are contracts. Sometimes one can't compare to the other."

I could see him thinking about this and he nodded. "I know that I'm going to be your next meal and that it sounds odd to be saying this, but I would have missed you if you'd gone."

"It doesn't sound odd," I assured him. "I would have missed you, too."

I received the shock of my life when he put his arms around me and rested his head on my chest. He was trembling again, but I knew that it wasn't from fear or upset. No, it was something different.

"This is an order, Sebastian," he said, his arms still around me. "You will never leave me and you will protect me until my revenge is complete. Reform the contract."

I smiled and placed my left hand over his right eye. "Yes, my lord."

Just as he had that other night when we'd formed our first contract, he did not cry out in pain. He endured the pain, waited until it faded, and then he looked at me. One eye was his usual blue, and the other was dusky purple, the mark of our contract plain to see. I watched as the mark formed on the back of my left hand and I smiled. "Your orders, my lord?"

He smiled back at me and I saw the return of the Ciel Phantomhive I knew so well. "In the morning, arrange for Madame Bright and Madame Rodkin to come. It's time I continued with my lessons."

Oh, he was back with a vengeance. Only the serious Ciel Phantomhive would think about lessons. "Do you have any other orders for me, my lord?"

"Stay with me until I fall asleep," he said, making no move to leave my lap.

I was smiling again. "Yes, my lord." I would stay. Oh, yes, I would stay.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

The smile Marcellus gave me the next morning told me that he knew what had happened. "All's well, Sebastian?"

"Very well," I said happily. I'd been smiling nonstop since the night before and I doubted that I would stop anytime soon.

"Good to hear," Marcellus said, but his attention switched to Bard in an instant. "No, Bard! Your fire is far too high for the dish you're trying to prepare. Shirred eggs only need medium-low heat."

I fought down some derisive laughter. Marcellus was attempting to teach Bard how to cook? Impossible! I'd tried the same thing countless times as had Agni! Why did Marcellus think he would succeed?

"It's good to see you so happy," Agni commented while he sliced fruit for breakfast. "Have you and your master worked things out between you?"

My smile grew wider. "Oh, yes, we have," I said happily. "I'd best take up his tea. You two have things well in hand here."

"I don't see why I just can't use my flamethrower," Bard complained, staring at the pan of eggs. "They'd cook so much faster."

"Sometimes it's how long something cooks that makes a dish special," Agni intoned, going to Marcellus' aid. I fought down a chuckle as I prepared tea and took it upstairs to my master's room.

"Young master," I said, pulling back the curtains and fastening them. "It is time for you to wake up."

He pulled the blankets over his head and mumbled something.

"Come, come," I said lightly. "One must not be a slug-a-bed." I pulled the blankets off of him and I nearly sighed, practically overwhelmed at the spectacle in front of me. He was rubbing his eyes, his hair was mussed, and he looked barely awake.

Surely I had to be channeling Lady Elizabeth. He looked so _cute_!

He sniffed. "Assam tea?"

I smiled. I knew neither of us would mention last night unless he brought up the subject first, and already I knew that he wouldn't do that. What had happened last night had been something very, very private for him and always the private remained private unless something caused it to be mentioned. Until he chose to speak about it with me, then all I could do was savor the memories of last night by myself and be the perfect butler. "Yes, young master," I said, laying out his clothes. Lady Elizabeth was right when she said the young master looked his best in blue, so today I'd chosen a midnight blue suit and a silk shirt for him. "For breakfast this morning we have shirred eggs, fruit salad, and scones, toast, or pain perdu. Which would you prefer?"

He surprised me. "Pain perdu."

I fought down another smile as I helped him dress. I had thought he would choose a scone. He usually did.

"What of today's schedule?" he asked as I began to help him on with his clothes.

"This morning you have a meeting in London with the board of the Funtom company," I told him. "Then we will return to the manor for lunch and after lunch Madames Bright and Rodkin will be here for your lessons. As part of your French lesson today you will have the ladies to tea and conversation will be held in French."

"Tch," he said. "I hate doing that. I can never remember the French word for 'scone.'"

"It would be the same word, bocchan," I told him, fastening his jacket. "Just in case, though, I will not serve scones if that is your wish."

"Mm."

It appeared it was. "Also, this evening, there is the dinner party you wished to hold for your relatives so they may be reassured that you are all right. Lady Elizabeth and the Marquess and Lady Middleford will be coming around eight." I wished he would hold still while I tied his tie, but he was busy looking at the clock.

"I wish I didn't have to bother with such a thing," he said flatly. "But they've been driving me mad, calling every few days and asking if I'm all right, so this is an easy way to avoid the annoyance. One night and it'll be done. Knowing Aunt Frances, she'll probably be here around five."

I fought down a smile. Lady Frances Middleford was a formidable woman and she was one of the adults that I trusted to be an example and mentor for my young master. My young master was most likely correct in his estimation of her arrival if I had not sent a note requesting that they not arrive until eight, when preparations for their arrival would be complete.

He was a bit more awake after eating breakfast but I don't think he believed any of us when he learned Bard had prepared the eggs. Despite our constant reassurances that Bard had indeed made the eggs, he still did not believe us.

"They taste good," he said. "They are not burned, rubbery, or dry. If Bard made these, then I'm the Queen."

I had to let the moment pass even if the temptation was nearly crippling me. If I'd bowed and said "Your Majesty," then he would have murdered me. (I was not entirely ignorant about the art of survival.)

By ten o'clock the young master and I were in the Funtom offices in London meeting with the board. My master, being a minor, could not make any decisions about the business, but I could act in his stead and decree what he wanted. None of the board felt like arguing with us and we were back at the manor in plenty of time for lunch. He enjoyed his chicken kiev and roast potatoes but it took me a bit of coaxing to get him to eat the vegetables. I could tell that he was having fun listening to me coax him and I was happy enough to do it. In my years of service with him, I had turned coaxing into a fine art and he always appreciated an artist's work.

Lessons with the lady governesses went well that afternoon...Mostly. At different times I heard my master playing the violin and the piano, and I could hear his voice as he recited his lessons to his teachers. He balked at the science experiment Madame Bright had planned and refused to do it. (I would have to explain just why the young master was reluctant to cut open a frog, although to me it was as clear as day. The things humans did in the pursuit of knowledge never failed to amaze me!) He and his teacher arrived at a compromise when he promised to read about the topic at hand and write an essay on his reading. The mathematics lesson was interesting since they were covering the volume of solid figures. When I took in a pitcher of cool water for the scholars the table was covered with wooden spheres, cubes, pyramids, cones, cylinders and prisms. To me, they looked like a set of a child's building bricks, but apparently they were learning tools. My master was certainly enjoying playing with them while the ladies' backs were turned. The same shapes were used in assembling a still life during his art lesson. His economics lesson went quickly and then it was time for his French lesson and tea. The French lesson at tea was very interesting and I was busy bringing more _the au lait et sucre, gateau de framboise, croissants, et tartines a la cresson pendant la lecon et la discussion de les recits. _

Once we had bid the ladies a fond _au revoir_ the young master had time to amuse himself for a while. In short order he and Prince Soma were outside in the garden, deeply involved in a game of lawn bowling. As a rule, my master did not bother with truly playing outside, but I could tell that he'd developed a bit of fondness for lawn bowling during his captivity with Sir Charles. I had no doubt that he imagined Sir Charles' face on the pins.

Dinner that evening was going to be elaborate. After all, Lady Elizabeth and her parents were coming and I knew that I had to impress Lady Middleford. Marcellus, Agni and I pulled out all the stops to create a veritable feast for our masters and my master's guests. To begin we had vermicelli soup, onion soup or cream of tomato soup, and for the remove a tropical fruit sorbet, broiled oysters, or stuffed mushroom caps. (I did not dare to keep them off the menu; my master was quite fond of them.) For the main course we had cod fillets in dill and white wine with au gratin potatoes or chicken breasts with wild mushrooms and wild rice. For the second course we'd prepared a canard a l'orange or shrimp curry accompanied by wilted spinach salad dressed with olive oil and crumbled feta cheese. For dessert we had apple charlotte, creme brulee, and strawberry cake with chocolate. If Lady Middleford was not impressed with that then I could not call myself a butler.

The dinner party was not just about the food, however. Everything had to be perfection in order for the party to be called a success. I selected a new, wrinkle-free tablecloth, polished the silver to a mirror-like shine, and created the centerpiece and decorations out of flowers from our own Phantomhive gardens. I selected wines and other beverages to go with each course and made sure they were chilled perfectly in time for dinner. I set the table with a mathematical precision and wisely forbade Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin from entering the room once the table was set. The finest white candles had been set up in candelabra on the table and around the room, and torches had been set up along the drive and lit.

Despite having the preparations complete, there was no time to relax. I had to hurry my master upstairs to help him change into a suitable outfit for dinner and I was just straightening his tie when I heard the sound of the Middlefords' carriage outside.

"It sounds like they're here, young master," I said, glancing out the window.

"We might as well get this over with," he muttered, staring at himself in the mirror. "Why I have to have a dinner party just so they can be sure I'm all right is beyond me."

"If a Phantomhive fails to offer hospitality to his guests, then they'll know that he isn't all right," I reminded him.

He stopped and appeared to think about what I'd said. "Quite right, Sebastian."

I escorted the young master downstairs to the great hall and was pleased to see that Marcellus and Agni had corralled the other servants and had them ready to greet our guests. Prince Soma, as my master's "best friend" was in his finest outfit and seemed ready to dazzle the coming guests. Hopefully he would not dazzle them too much and we would be able to have a somewhat quiet evening. The absence of someone else almost ensured that the evening would be peaceful. Thankfully, Grell had gone out for the night and was not expected until the following evening. Explaining his presence to Lady Middleford was something I was sure I would never be prepared to do. I wouldn't even know how to begin to explain Grell Sutcliff.

The doors opened and there was Lady Elizabeth and her parents.

"CIIIIEEEELL!" Lady Elizabeth squealed as she spotted my master. "I'm so glad you're all right!"

Before Lady Middleford could reprove her daughter for her breach of etiquette, Lady Elizabeth launched herself at my master and spun him around before throttling him in a hug.

"Elizabeth!" Lady Middleford said sharply. "Do not behave in such a manner before you've even greeted the earl!"

Lady Elizabeth was beyond hearing and a moment later the marquess himself charged the young master, arms ready for hugging. It always surprised me to no end that a marquess had a personality that adored everything "cute."

"I give up," I heard Lady Middleford mutter a moment later. "They will behave foolishly..."

"A pleasure to see you, Lady Middleford," I said politely as she drew closer to me.

She stared at me. "As always, you look lecherous."

I fought down a smile. It was so nice to know that some things hadn't changed. "Ah, do I?"

She glared at me but sighed. "Never mind. I must thank you, Sebastian, for all you have endured for my nephew and how you did not leave his side during his latest ordeal."

"Not at all," I said quickly. "It is my honor to serve my master."

"CIIIEEELLL, you're wearing BLUE!" Lady Elizabeth and her father screeched in unison. "That's so CUUUUTE!"

Ah, good. They approved of his ensemble. I, as his valet, had scored another victory. While Lady Middleford might wince at such vocal appreciation, I enjoyed it.

Lady Middleford turned suddenly and stared at the open door. "Now, where's she gone to...?"

I froze. Had Lady Middleford brought an additional guest? Oh, no. No, no, no! Being who and how she was I'd never thought that Lady Middleford would bring a surprise guest to a dinner party! Didn't she realize the trouble that could cause to the staff and her host? Such a thing just wasn't _done. _

"So sorry," I heard as someone came through the door. "I was absolutely beguiled by the roses! Is this your nephew, Frances? He's absolutely charming!" So saying, she scooped him up in her arms and squeezed.

To say that my master was pleased at the abrupt introduction would have been a blatant lie. "Put me DOWN!"

Lady Middleford snapped to attention. "Ciel! Is that any way to speak to a lady?"

"I don't care!" he said, pulling away from her. "Is crushing someone's ribs the new way of greeting someone?"

"Oh, so sorry!" the lady said, sounding truly contrite. "Sometimes I get carried away. Please forgive me." She curtsied. "I am Miss Alyssa Villefort, an old school friend of Frances'."

My master gave a curt bow. "Miss Villefort, a pleasure." I could tell that it was taking all of his will power not to turn the woman out of the house.

"I hope you don't mind my bringing her," Lady Middleford interjected as Prince Soma stammered an introduction of himself. "Alyssa's been abroad for the past few years and I wanted to get her back into the swing of things, so to speak."

I could not believe that Lady Frances Middleford, a paragon of propriety, had done something so gauche as to bring an uninvited guest to what was supposed to have been a private gathering. Had she taken complete leave of her senses?

Yes, no matter how much I wished she hadn't lost her sense of propriety, there was no denying that she had. There Miss Villefort was, chattering away happily to my master as he led the assembled company into the parlor. I rushed to the dining room to rearrange the place settings, cursing the fact that now, of all times, Lady Middleford had decided to ignore protocol.

Despite the small hiccup in guests, the dinner went off with no problem. Marcellus, Agni and I had sent Bard, Mey-Rin and Finny to the kitchen with strict orders to touch nothing until we said otherwise. Knowing that they'd have two butlers and a khansama after them if they disobeyed, we knew that things in the kitchen would be safe until the party was over. The three of us served and were unobtrusive presences in the corners of the room in case anyone needed something, and by the time the company returned to the parlor it was safe to have the others come in to clear the table. Once I was sure that Agni and Marcellus had things well in hand I went to the parlor in case I was needed.

"How is it you have four butlers, Ciel?" Miss Villefort asked. "You have Mr. Tanaka, Sebastian, Marcellus, and Agni."

"Actually, Agni is Soma's butler," the young master clarified. "Tanaka is our house steward. Sebastian is my butler and Marcellus is Sebastian's uncle. He asked my permission to stay for a while and visit with Sebastian. I know such a thing is not usually done, but Sebastian is Marcellus' only family I didn't have the heart to say no."

"How very kind of you!" Miss Villefort said. "Oh, you're such a sweet boy!"

I could hear my master's teeth grinding from across the room. I could tell without a doubt that he did not like Miss Villefort.

A short eternity later, the clock struck nine and Lady Middleford insisted that the company depart, saying that her daughter and my master needed their rest and that it would not do to keep them up too late. I blessed Lady Middleford's suggestion and I was more than happy to bid the guests good night. As soon as the Middlefords' carriage had pulled away my master sank into a chair and sighed. "Why is it Aunt Frances' visits are always so trying?"

"Lady Frances has a forceful personality, young master," I said, pouring him a soothing cup of chamomile tea. "Her strength is quite an asset to her."

He gave me a look. "Honestly, Sebastian! She's the offspring of a force of nature and an agent of chaos!"

"You're maligning your grandparents, sir," I said lightly.

"You've done the same," he shot back.

I stared at him. What on earth was he talking about?

"Ah, young master, I was wondering if I might ask a favor of you," Marcellus said suddenly.

My master's attention shifted. "What is it, Marcellus?"

"I was wondering if Sebastian and I might be able to have the evening off," he said, surprising me so much that my jaw actually dropped. "Agni and the other servants would be able to protect you while we were gone, wouldn't they?"

An excited squeal and a crash from the dining room interrupted us.

"Leave it to us, young master!" Finny said, bursting out of the door. "We can protect you!"

"Oh, we can, yes!" Mey-Rin cried, scooting out after him. "Yes, we can!"

"How many plates did you break, Mey-Rin?" I asked, unable to resist.

"Just two," Bard said, following her. "One of them landed on my head. But yeah, we can handle things while you're gone."

That did not instill any confidence in me. The only people I knew I could trust one hundred percent would be Agni and Tanaka. With the others, it was closer to ninety percent.

"We shall ensure the young master's safety in your absence."

All of us whipped around to stare at Tanaka. He'd drawn himself up to his full height and gave us a stately bow, a butler to the core.

Agni smiled. "Certainly. Lord Ciel will be safe with all of us, and my prince will ensure that he will not be bored."

"Quite," the young master said, apparently struggling for a diplomatic answer. I could tell an evening spent with Prince Soma was not high on his list of anticipated events, but he would be a gracious host and not allow his guest to know his true feelings. "All right, be back in time for breakfast in the morning."

"Thank you, young master," Marcellus said with a bow. "We shall take our leave now, if that is all right."

He smiled. "Of course, Marcellus. Have a pleasant time. Have fun, Sebastian."

Why did I feel as if something very important had just been decided without me?

* * *

It didn't take long for Marcellus to get me out the door, even given the fact that I was protesting every step of the way.

"Really, I don't feel comfortable leaving him with only human protection," I protested. "What's so important that both of us have to leave?"

"It's important," Marcellus insisted. "Don't worry, Ciel will be perfectly safe while we're gone."

"Marcellus, whenever anyone makes a statement like that it's just an open invitation for something to come and bite them in the..."

Marcellus chuckled. "Such language, youngster!"

"Well, it's true!"

"So it is, but I don't think anything will happen this time," he said. "Come on, we have a ways to go yet."

"Where are we going?" I wanted to know. There were still times when I wondered if Marcellus was trustworthy. He'd proved himself to be so several times, but he was a demon. I was a demon, and I knew what we were like.

"Someplace special," he said. "I've always enjoyed going there and I wanted to share the place with you."

Well, this was...intriguing. Why was he so eager to share a place with me?

"Come on, Sebastian," he said, urging me on. "Let's go!"

I let him urge me into a run. It was pleasant to run with abandon and not allow myself to be limited by masquerading as a human. There was no one to see us and I let my real self show as I gained speed. I could feel the wind swirling around my feet as the ground sped away underneath me and before long I was pushing myself to run even faster. I was moving so quickly that no human eyes could have seen us even if they'd tried.

Marcellus pulled up alongside me and grinned. "This way, Sebastian!" He shot off ahead of me and I forced myself faster, determined to catch up with him.

Marcellus was still grinning when I caught up with him, and he launched himself into the air, encouraging me to do the same. As soon as I was in the air he dropped, catching hold of me and holding me close. "I'm glad you agreed to come with me. Now! Let's see if you can overtake me!"

With that, he was gone, running on air toward the horizon. I ran after him, even more puzzled and even more intrigued. He just didn't want us to have a night out together, he had some other motive for asking the young master for time off. I had a strong suspicion that if I wanted to know his reasons for that I would have to follow him. Well, I was more than willing to do that. I kept running, leaping, and covering the distance as best I could. I might have been younger but he was the better runner and it was taking all my ingenuity to find ways to keep up.

I had no idea how long we'd spent running, but suddenly a playful push from behind knocked me out of my run and sent me plummeting towards the ground. I didn't even have time to gasp before strong arms caught me and halted my earthward plunge. A moment later we were resting on the ground, gasping and laughing. I was laughing so hard that I could not breathe and it was several minutes before I could look around and get my bearings.

Long, sharp-bladed grass in sandy soil. Salt in the air. The nearby sound of the sea. How far had we run? "Marcellus? Where are we?"

"My favorite place," he said, getting to his feet before pulling me to to mine. "Come on, I'll show you."

Once I was on my feet I could see where we were. He and I stood on a cliff overlooking the sea. The wind rushed up from the water, making the grass sway and ruffling our hair and for some reason, I found myself smiling. I liked this place. I turned slowly, looking about, and on a rise above us stood a ruined castle.

"This way," Marcellus said, still holding onto my hand as he led me up to the castle. "I've been coming here since I was young. I wanted to share it with you."

To ask why would have been rude, so I let it rest. He might choose to share his reasons with me later.

I could tell that the castle was very, very old. It was even older than I was, but that should not have been possible. Humans had not begun building such structures until I was a few centuries old, so how had this gotten here?

"This was built by the Old Ones," Marcellus said quietly. "Humans rarely notice it, and of those few who notice it, only a small number actually realize what it is. I've been coming here since I was younger than you are now."

What he was saying staggered me. "The Old Ones?" From what I'd heard of our legends, the Old Ones were...well, there were two schools of thought regarding them, but I'd only ever known them as legends. To actually see something they'd built put a whole new perspective on them for me.

Marcellus chuckled. "You didn't expect that, did you?"

"Not at all," I admitted, whispering. "Are they still here?"

"Rarely," he answered. "Only when they're called and I do not know if there's anyone alive now who knows how to call them."

Relief rushed through me. While demons could not be killed by anything mortal, there was a wealth of stories in which demons had been vanquished by the Old Ones when they took offense at something. I knew I was not up to a battle with the Old Ones.

"This way," Marcellus said, leading me inside.

I stared around the interior of the castle once we were past the doorway. "And you've been coming here since you were young?"

"As often as I can," Marcellus confirmed.

I could see why. Inside the castle it was quiet. Oh, you could hear the sound of the wind and the sea through the empty windows and open door, but it was a quiet, restful kind of noise. With the positioning of the windows and the door the place would not be flooded with sunlight until the next solstice. The place seemed geared for rest and refreshment of the self.

"Whenever I've felt too overwhelmed, I've come here," Marcellus said softly. "I've always enjoyed the atmosphere here and I wanted to share it with you."

We had arrived once again at his wanting to share it with me. "Why me?" I asked, hoping he would stop being evasive and actually answer one of my questions.

He smiled. "You're precious to me, Sebastian."

I blinked, surprised. I was precious to him? "Why am I precious to you, Marcellus?"

He laughed and put his arms around me. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

"If I'd figured it out, I wouldn't be asking," I said, irked. "Instead of thinking I can read your mind, how about you just tell me?"

He chuckled and released me. "You know, your young master once asked me about my family."

I nodded. The young master had once asked me about my family, as well. Funny, but he was the first master I'd ever had that had bothered to ask such questions.

"I know the name you were given at birth," he continued. "I took care of you and protected you while you were being held by Sir Charles. There's a reason for that."

"You never explain your reasons, though."

He put an arm around me and a moment later we were sitting on the grassy floor of the castle, leaning against the wall. "I'll explain now," he said quietly, and he leaned close to whisper something to me.

"My great grandfather?" I couldn't believe it. When I thought about it, it made perfect sense. Only the members of my family would know the name I'd been given at birth and he was powerful, which was the mark of an older demon. He'd protected me as best he could while he was under contract. In fact, he'd done everything he could to make sure that I was safe. "Why did the two of us never meet before?"

"I was under contract and by the time it ended you were already grown and under your own contract," he told me. "Since then, it's been difficult to track you down, but Sir Charles did that for me, didn't he?"

I laughed. "Yes, he did." He'd practically dropped me right into Marcellus' lap.

"I have to say, you're a demon among demons, Sebastian," he said, pushing my head down until it rested on his shoulder. "I am elated that you are my great-grandson. You are as good-hearted as a demon can be, you are clever and thoughtful toward your contractor, and you are able to adapt to almost anything. I am proud of you. As long as I've known you, I've seen you work hard and do things that most demons wouldn't think of doing."

I smiled. I doubted I'd ever confess how much his praise meant to me. In the time he and I had spent together and during our many conversations, I'd come to care for him. "Thank you, Marcellus."

He didn't say anything, but suddenly his wrist was in front of my mouth, offering sustenance. I didn't even hesitate before I started to drink. The taste was exquisite, and whatever he'd done to enhance the flavor had improved it a thousand-fold. What I was swallowing was so delicious that there were no words to convey its true nature. Time seemed to bend and suddenly I was no longer drinking but I was leaning against Marcellus and I was perfectly content to stay there. I was also almost asleep.

Marcellus didn't say anything as he wrapped his arms around me and held me. I could hear the wind rushing through the grass and the crashing of the waves and I could smell the salt in the air. "I'd like to come here again," I said quietly, enjoying the peace.

"You may come whenever you like," Marcellus told me. "This place is also yours, now."

I grasped his hand in mine, telling him without words how happy that made me.

"I will miss times like this," Marcellus said.

That surprised me. "Miss them? Why?" Surely there'd be more of them...

"I have to find another contract," Marcellus said. "I can't stay at the Phantomhive estate forever, you know. I need to eat sooner or later."

"We have three idiot servants at the manor," I joked. "Surely they'd sustain you for a while."

Marcellus chuckled. "Shame on you, youngster."

"With a little work, I'm sure they'd be tasty."

Marcellus gave me a light tap on the top of my head in admonishment. "Enough, Sebastian. I know you wouldn't let that happen."

He was right. "No, I wouldn't. They serve their true purpose admirably, and they're actually good friends." I couldn't forget how they'd all rallied around me while I'd been ill. The depth of their feelings had shaken me quite a bit.

"Glad to hear that."

I didn't realize when I fell asleep. When I dreamed, I dreamed of the castle on the cliff and the sound of the sea. A harsh jangling noise brought me awake and I found myself staring at the alarm clock on my bedside table. I was in my own bed at the manor. Had I dreamed the whole thing?

A note on the table caught my attention and I recognized Marcellus' handwriting. Setting the clock aside I picked up the letter and read it.

_Dear Sebastian,_ I read. _I'm sure you won't be happy when you wake and find me gone, but it was easiest for both of us, I think, if I said goodbye while you slept. I shall miss you very much while I'm off serving this new contract, but as I'm sure you're aware, there are opportunities and there are opportunities. Keep yourself well while I'm gone and watch after that master of yours. He needs you more than either of you realize. As soon as this contract is complete I will return to see you. I'm not about to let you disappear again, grandson. I'll see you soon. Marcellus._


	28. Chapter 28

Epilogue

I did miss Marcellus. I would have been lying if I said otherwise and as I'd promised my master, I never told lies. I missed the easy relationship we'd come to share and I missed chatting with him while we went about our daily duties as butlers. I especially missed the time we'd spent together every evening, just talking and enjoying one another's company, but I knew that he couldn't stay with me forever. He had to eat, after all, and that meant a contract.

I didn't realize just how much everyone else would miss him, though. Bard seemed grouchy, Mey-Rin wandered about like a drooping flower, and Finny looked as if he'd lost his best friend. Agni and Soma were both unhappy at Marcellus' departure and the young master...well, he was in a foul mood. Usually, I found his foul moods amusing since they rarely lasted long and because the young master was rather adorable when he behaved petulantly, but the morning after Marcellus' departure I could tell that this mood was going to stick around for a while.

"Did Marcellus come back with you last night?" he asked as soon as I woke him.

"No, young master," I answered truthfully. "He has gone to fill a contract."

He dropped his head back into his pillows and looked rather depressed. "I see."

"He did say that he would be back at some point," I offered, hoping to cheer him up.

Vain hope. "Hmm."

He remained in the same mood while I got him up and dressed and he remained depressed all through breakfast. I'd even baked his favorite scones and I'd provided lemon curd, but he didn't touch it and only nibbled at one of the scones.

His mood did not improve over the next few days and I began to be worried. Had his happiness depended so much upon Marcellus' company? Should I try to find Marcellus and convince him to come back? I was trying everything I could think of to lighten my young master's mood: stories, interesting diversions, reading aloud, his favorite treats and teas, but none of it was working! I was beginning to wonder if I should invite Grell to stay at the manor again since he was good at providing a somewhat amusing distraction, but his office had recalled him and he left shortly after Marcellus' departure.

A visit from Lady Middleford, Lady Elizabeth, and Miss Villefort did not help matters in the least. They dropped by one afternoon and stayed clear through supper. I was stuck running to and fro trying to wait on them and supervise the meals at the same time and it took all of my abilities as a butler to manage everything that was going on. Thankfully, Agni came to my rescue and took over the supervision of dinner preparation, which left me to wait on the guests in the parlor.

Thank goodness for good friends who were wiling to help in a pinch. Agni's assistance certainly made my job easier as I had to deal with Lady Middleford's disapproving demeanor and her friend's...mishaps. Put kindly, Miss Villefort was a klutz, a lady who possessed not a modicum of grace. Unfortunate in the extreme, but true. Over the course of their visit I had to clean up after a knocked-over flower vase, three spilled teacups, two broken ones, a chipped sandwich plate, two toppled glasses of wine, a spilled glass of champagne, and an upset gravy boat. It was as if she'd declared war on our tableware!

She wasn't any better away from the table, either. On her way into the dining room she knocked into a chair in the hall, caught her foot on the carpet and stumbled, stubbed her toes on the dining room door jamb, stumbled again on the dining room rug, and nearly missed her seat altogether when she went to sit down at the table. By the time I had her seated, she'd managed to step on my toes no less than three times. If I'd been human I would have been crippled with pain.

Compared to Miss Villefort, Lady Elizabeth was a paragon of genteel behavior, and I had a strong feeling that she found Miss Villefort's clumsiness a bit embarrassing. She had the tact and grace, however, not to mention it. Miss Villefort was a grown woman; how could she allow herself and her hosts to suffer such behavior without attempting to remedy it? She was embarrassing not only herself but the people who had introduced her, as well.

My master was not the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when Lady Middleford, Lady Elizabeth, and Miss Villefort left us for the evening. Once their carriage had exited the manor gates I went to see what I could do about the havoc Miss Villefort had left behind her.

A few days after their visit my master received a letter. For the first time since Marcellus' departure I could see a glimmer of interest in his eyes. It was one of the queen's letters and I could tell that the young master and I would be investigating in London. His expression as he read it made me slightly uneasy.

"Children have been disappearing in London," he said.

"Really?" I said, hoping he would say more.

He nodded. "Over the past week Scotland Yard has been inundated with reports about missing children and as of last night the number's at two hundred and eighty five separate cases. It doesn't matter who they are or where they're from in London, they've come up missing. There have been cases reported from the worst neighborhoods in the East End to Mayfair. She wants us to find them."

I smiled and gave a bow. This would be rather interesting. "Yes, my lord."

_Author's Note: You guys rock for all the reviews for my last chapter. I'm so glad you liked it! This is the final update for this story; the adventures of Ciel and Sebastian will continue in my next fic, so please let me know how you like it once I begin posting! Thanks again for all your encouragement!_


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